


Pack Mentality

by combatfaerie



Series: Pack Mentality [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Families of Choice, Sexual Content, rollynch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-18 23:03:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combatfaerie/pseuds/combatfaerie
Summary: Seth Rollins didn't learn about his werewolf heritage until he was almost a teenager, but he knows how important a pack is. In WWE, his pack is his Shield brothers, Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose. But as his feelings for Becky Lynch grow, can he find room in his makeshift pack for one more?





	1. Chapter 1

_Boys will be boys._ Holly knew that was bullshit, but she was told the same thing by doctor after doctor when she took Colby in to be assessed. "He's a growing young boy, ma'am," they would say, condescension rich in their voices. "He just has a lot of energy to wear off. He'll grow out of it eventually." Then they would recommend enrolling him in sports, as if their small town was just bursting at the seams with options. There were hardly enough kids to warrant having a school within the town limits, let alone recreational sports options. His gym teachers seemed to back up the doctors' assessments: "Colby is enthusiastic and always willing to learn and participate," they would say on report cards, "but often has time winding down at the end of physical activity."

It was a vicious cycle: the more sedate teachers—math ones, especially—would tell her that Colby needed more physical outlets, and the gym teachers would tell her he needed more restraint. She did what she could, making sure their backyard was well stocked with toys and sports equipment, but it never seemed to be enough. It wasn't until a member of Colby's biological father's family reached out to her that she got the slightest hint of the magnitude of what was going on with her son. 

"He has werewolf genes." The man was a cousin of some sort to her former partner, and she only knew him as Michael, though she imagined that was likely an Anglicized version of his name. "We don't start to shapeshift until puberty. I thought you would have a few more years, but kids are developing so quickly now. . . ."

"Michael, please be serious. This is my son we're talking about. I know your cousin and I didn't end things on great terms, but Colby doesn't deserve to suffer for that." Holly had only agreed to the meeting in Davenport in hopes that Michael would be able to provide a family medical history that she could then take to the doctor so Colby could get whatever tests or treatments he needed. His moods were already getting dark and brooding like a teenager's, and he had accidentally punched a hole in a wall when he was upset. "Is it congenital? Is it some disease that runs in the family? If you can't give me anything official for . . . for whatever reason, please just give me something to tell the doctor. The name of the condition. A symptom. Anything. Colby's a good kid, a sweet kid, but he gets so _angry_ sometimes and he doesn't know why."

Michael stared down into his coffee. "I already told you, Holly. It's because he has werewolf genes. Normally we're born into a family—our very first pack. And that's where we learn how to shift, how to deal with our dual natures. Colby hasn't had that guidance, so he's just doing whatever makes him feel better in the moment."

Holly rose with a huff. "Thanks for nothing, Michael." She had paid for a babysitter, for gas to drive to Davenport, for parking and for lackluster coffee, and all he had to say for himself was some psychological delusion? She didn't have time to indulge his power fantasies. 

"Holly, wait." Michael stood so abruptly his chair clattered to the ground, and other people in the café glared in his direction. Strange how they didn't bat an eyelash over a conversation about werewolves, but apparently a fallen chair was a punishable offence. "I can't do much. I know that's not fair, and I apologize for that. But this should help." He reached into his thick coat and pulled out two books. The first had a golden cover with an almost velvet-like texture, and looked like a personal journal; the other had a simple blue cover and obviously been bound cheaply, combining many different types, ages, and sizes of paper. "The yellow one is one of my early journals. In a proper pack, we are encouraged to chart our symptoms, our feelings. They different from person to person, but perhaps it will make Colby feel . . . less alone. The other is a collection of data. Things he'll have to avoid or watch out for, that sort of thing." He stopped short of handing them directly to Holly, choosing to set them on the table instead.

Shaking her head, Holly looked down at the books. "Why can't you just be honest, Michael? Why can't you just . . . just _talk_ to him? I'll tell him not to bring up his biological father. He doesn't care about him anyway. Just be honest with him and give him the answers he needs!"

"I can't, Holly." For a moment, Michael seemed legitimately apologetic. "I shouldn't even be giving you these books. But the boy needs a pack—"

"He needs a family!" Holly grabbed the books and jammed them in her purse so forcefully that the back cover on the blue book bent and almost tore away. "And he has me, but I'm not enough! I've taken him to so many doctors. I've put him in sports. I've had him talk to therapists. And none of it helps!" She slumped back in her chair, head in her hands. She was doing her best to be a good mother, but this was a problem she couldn't find a solution for.

"I am sorry, Holly. Truly." Michael squeezed her shoulder for a moment before stepping aside. "Colby sounds like a smart boy. He must get that from you. It will help. The next few years will be hard, I won't lie, but I think you two can make it through together. You don't need a dozen people to be a pack. If you get the right person, a pack of two can be stronger than a pack of twenty or more. Be his pack."

Holly waited until she heard Michael's footsteps recede and the café's door chime closed before she raised her head. Mercifully, no one was watching their spectacle anymore; there was too much happening in Davenport for one domestic squabble to rank very highly, she guessed. "Be his pack," she echoed, frustration warping her voice. "Right." She stood just as one of the baristas started to approach, probably worried about her emotional state, and she headed straight for her car. She had promised Colby answers, and all she would be coming home with some books that probably weren't worth the paper they were printed on.


	2. Chapter 2

More than twenty years later, Seth still had those two books, though they had incurred more damage over the years. The blue one now had duct tape running the length of its spine, its pages stained with coffee and the odd smudge of pizza sauce. The original cover of the golden journal had been mostly torn away and replaced with backing board from his high school art class, complete with teenage-era goth-inspired doodles. It had taken him a while for his mother to come around to the truth, but as soon as Seth started reading his relative's journal, everything made more sense. There had been so many times when his mother had asked him what was wrong and the closest thing he could think of to say was _It feels like there's something inside me and it wants to get out_. He wasn't far off, in the end. He figured that was why he took to wrestling so quickly: having another name and a separate persona was as natural as having a second self, his wolf form.

Even though it was potentially dangerous, Seth took those books on the road with him to all his wrestling events, along with his own journal. He had taken some cues from Michael's, but mostly it was a document of his own design. It had started out as a simple sketchbook—blank paper so he wouldn’t feel hemmed in by the lines and margins—and he had filled a few; he only ever brought his most recent. He'd tried doing an online version, coming up with an absurd username that no one would ever think to link to him and creating a private blog, but for all its convenience, it never felt as right as pen and paper.

He had to make sure his fellow wrestlers didn't see it, of course. The blue and gold books could be explained away as fiction he was reading, but the sketchbook was in his own handwriting. Some of them knew he enjoyed writing, but he doubted they would believe he was working on a werewolf novel.

_Have a pack._ It had been the root of Michael's advice to his mother, and it was echoed throughout Michael's journal and the blue book full of anecdotes. Fellow werewolves were preferred, but almost every single family member documented there mentioned a human they were close to: a fellow student, a co-worker, a girlfriend past or present. They never revealed their secret—it was clear that it was strictly forbidden—but they had all found human allies to help them deal with the human symptoms and repercussions. To that end, Seth had The Shield.

He had been having difficulties adjusting in NXT and gone to Hunter to vent. He obviously couldn't divulge everything—not then, anyway—but he had mentioned feeling adrift, feeling alone. He said he wished he had someone the way Hunter had Shawn Michaels: a friend, a partner in D-Generation X, an ally in a business that could be very much every man for himself. Hunter said he understood and would talk with some people, and within a week, the blueprints for the entity that became The Shield started to come together.

He needed a pack, and Hunter had given him one. Roman was the solid older brother type, only one year different in age but with a vastly different amount of life experience. He already had a daughter and a number of career highs and lows, and was as big and steady as a mountain. Dean, maybe half a year older than Seth, felt more like his wolf, full of uncontainable energy. Roman often joked that if the three of them comprised a brain, he was the ego, the realistic mediator, and they were both ids. Seth thought Roman would have been more of a superego, their moral guide, but then that would leave the mediator role to him.

At that moment, sitting in the hotel bar, Seth had to admit he was definitely more in id mode. He had just broken up with another long-term girlfriend and when Roman had accused him of subtly sabotaging the relationship, he knew his Shield brother wasn't wrong. It might not have been intentional, but Seth could easily pinpoint things he had said and done, or not said or not done, that chipped away at the bond until she decided she'd had enough. "It's hard when you're on the road all the time," he said, hating the whine that edged into his voice. That was part of his heel persona, and he didn't want that seeping into his personal life. "You're lucky, Roman. You found your girl early."

"I was lucky," Roman agreed, leaning back in his chair. "I was also smart enough to know I had to work to keep her. You need to work on that last part, bro. You can't expect your girl to do all the work."

Dean suddenly laughed and slapped their table. "There's someone who would make Sethy Boy work." He pointed to the hotel bar's entrance, where Becky Lynch had just arrived, travel bag in tow. They all waited to see which of the Four Horsewomen would be with her, but she appeared to be flying solo that evening. Dean stood abruptly and grinned. "I'm going to invite her over."

"What? Dean!" Seth didn't want to raise his voice and draw Becky's attention. They had all been friends since their NXT days, but only Roman and Dean knew he nursed a lingering crush on her. So many of the other girls had been obsessed with how they looked and what they wore, and Becky had always seemed vaguely uncomfortable with that aspect; she could get dolled up with the best of them, but her preference seemed to be more casual. Plus she had a fire for the business that had no equal; she and Seth had often talked backstage and even when she was so distraught she was crying, her eyes still burned.

Roman reached out and kept Seth in his chair, watching Dean talk to Becky. "Chill, Seth. He's not going to ask her out for you. You need to do that yourself."

"What? Dude, I just broke up with my girlfriend. I'm going to enjoy being single for a while," Seth insisted, trying not to stare. Becky looked upset about something, but Dean was making her laugh and seeing that burned a bit.

"Really? Funny how you always 'break up' with someone not long after Becky's newly single." Roman's smirk was infuriating, and Seth wanted to wipe it off his face. "And then you chicken out and you don't ask her, and she ends up dating someone else, so then you go find some random chick—"

"Random?" Seth sputtered. "Roman, it's not like I just walk into a café and pick—"

Rowan's raised eyebrow didn't have quite the power of his cousin's famous expression, but it did the trick. "Dude, you complain that your girlfriends don't come to your matches or whatever, but you keep dating models and bartenders and hairstylists. If you want a girl who's into wrestling," he added with a shrug, glancing over at Becky, "it might not be such a bad idea to date a wrestler." Then he lowered his voice. "Couldn't hurt with the wolf thing either. You'd be less afraid of hurting her if anything went sideways."

Seth stilled at that. None of his human girlfriends had ever known he was a werewolf, not even the one he was with for almost seven years. Sometimes he never even got close to telling them; other times he would chicken out and then end up doing something to shatter the relationship. Before he could reply to Roman, though, he noticed that Dean was returning—with Becky and her bag in tow. "Hey, gang," Dean sang, kicking a chair out for Becky. She pushed her bag against the wall and sat. "Lynch got ditched."

Seth's grip on his beer bottle tightened a bit, and he tried to ignore Roman's kick to his leg. "Everything okay?"

Becky nodded. She gave them all a smile, but it was obvious that she was annoyed. "You know how it is. Ric Flair's finally off his birthday tour, so Charlotte has some time away from Daddy's prying eyes."

"Ah." Roman nodded. "Wanted the room to herself?"

"Not just herself," Becky replied, "but yeah."

"_Ah_." Roman gave a knowing chuckle. "Any idea who the lucky soul is?"

Becky shook her head. "Don't know, and I don't want to know. Anyway, I'm waiting to hear back if the hotel has any other rooms available, but it didn't sound promising. If not I'll have to get the car keys from her and drive to the next place. I think I saw a motel a couple miles back."

Dean held Seth's gaze for a minute and shot him a wicked grin. "You can share one of ours," he offered. "We always get two and alternate who gets a room to himself. There's a couch, so you wouldn't have to share the bed. . . ."

_DEAN, SHUT UP._ Seth tried to telegraph it with his eyes, but Dean was studiously avoiding looking at him while Roman did his best to hide his smile behind his beer stein. It was Dean's night to have the single room, and Seth dreaded the thought of the stories he would tell Becky about him all night long.

"Roman's stuck with me tonight," Dean continued, ignoring Seth's frantic eye signals. "So as long as Seth doesn't mind having you on his couch. . . ."

Roman cleared his throat discreetly, but Seth knew he caught the wording too. Becky was either too tired or too grateful to not have to head back out, because she took his words at face value. "That's nice of you to offer," she said, "but I don't want to impose. Even if I could just get a ride so I don't have to interrupt Char, that would be great."

"You're not imposing," Seth said at last, wincing when Roman kicked him under the table again. "I don't mind. That's shitty of Charlotte to do that to you on short notice." Then he glanced over at Dean. How they were going to swap room keys without it being obvious, he had no clue. "You have the bed if you want. I'm fine with the couch." He was guessing that Dean's room looked similar to the one he and Roman had already left their bags in.

Dean stood suddenly, clapping his hands. "Problem solved!" He patted the pocket that held his room key and winked at Seth. "I'll go let the desk clerk know that Becky's got a place to crash."

Roman caught on and tossed his key to Dean as well. "While you're up, would you mind checking if I brought my phone charger? I need to call JoJo in the morning and I don't think my battery will make it."

"Sure." Dean caught the key easily. "Be right back."

Becky's smile dimmed a bit in Dean's absence and what Seth had originally thought was irritation in her gaze now seemed more like disappointment. She and Charlotte were best friends, the Four Horsewomen not unlike The Shield, so it must have stung to be pushed aside just so Charlotte could have a fling. "Thanks again, you guys. I really appreciate it. But if it's going to make things difficult, don't worry about me. I can go get the keys from Charlotte." She paused, doing some mental math. "It's only been about ten minutes," she added awkwardly, "so I shouldn't be interrupting the main event yet."

"It's fine, Becks." Was it Seth's imagination, or did she perk up a bit at the nickname? He glanced over at Roman to see what he thought, but his Shield brother was keeping his expression neutral. "Like I said, you can have the bed. I don't mind."

Naturally, Dean chose that moment to return, a room key dangling from each hand. He tossed Roman's key back to him. "Yeah, your charger was where it always is. I left it out on the dresser for you." Then he handed Seth the key that should have been his own. "The desk clerk said you left it on the counter when you came back down to ask about the balcony door," he lied smoothly. "Good thing she recognized me or you'd both be looking for a place to sleep."

It was easy enough to read between the lines. Dean had moved his own bag into the room Roman and Seth had been slated to share and then moved Seth's stuff into Dean's old room; all the blather about charging cords and desk clerks was so Becky didn't realize they were shuffling things around. "Thanks." Seth gave him a wary nod and then passed the key on to Becky. "If you want to head up now, go ahead. I have to talk to Roman about something first."

Becky could take a hint too, and she grabbed the key as she stood. "Thanks, guys. I mean it. Next time we're in Dublin, first round's on me."

"No worries." Roman gave her a warm smile. "Have a good night, Becky."

Dean glanced between Roman and Becky. "Speak for yourself, man. I'm not passing up free Irish beer! See ya tomorrow, Lynch."

"Night, guys." Then she looked at Seth and suddenly seemed to realize what the scenario was going to look like to everyone else. "I'll . . . I'll see you up there, I guess?"

Seth nodded, feeling like a damn bobblehead. "Yeah." He started to say _I won't be long_ and then _I'll be up soon_, but he knew exactly the kind of look he would get from Dean.

Roman waited until Becky had left the bar to let his smile turn to a full smirk. "Looks like it's starting to rain," he noted, pointing to the front windows. "Good thing Becky didn't have to head back out to find a place to sleep."

Dean just kept smiling. "You owe me, Iowa." He gave Seth a friendly punch in the shoulder before looking over to Roman. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I got the couch." He held his hand out for Seth's original room key, which Seth handed over with a roll of his eyes.

Roman shook his head. "Nah. You gave our boy a kick in the butt. You can take the bed."

"You still owe me." Dean pointed at Seth and downed what was left of his beer. "And you can start by paying the tab." Then he waved at the bartender and left the bar.

For a long moment, Roman and Seth were both silent. "Listen, Seth, if you're really not cool with it, make up some bullshit thing like . . . being allergic to her shampoo or something. Dean or I can trade with you. We're not saying you have to make a move tonight. Just talk to her."

Seth slumped in his chair. The full moon was in a week and he needed to start preparing for his next transformation. He only had to shift on full moons, but that was non-negotiable, so he always made sure to plot out a safe location—often easier said than done, considering their wrestling schedules. "I talk to her all the time. Shoving us in the same room alone together isn't going to magically change anything."

Roman laughed as he stood. "You have clearly never read a romance novel, my friend." Then he held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying. Don't be stupid. Don't try to force anything. Just talk with her. Talk to her about music. Let her vent about Charlotte. See how it feels. If it feels good, if it feels comfortable, then ask her out for coffee or something."

"What if it makes things awkward? It's not exactly like we can avoid each other at work," Seth pointed out. Even with separate locker rooms, the backstage area was a microcosm, and news travelled fast. Rumours _flew_.

"Don't do anything stupid," Roman said simply, "and it won't be awkward. You're both adults, Seth. If you make a move and she's not interested, she'll let you know. You should know Becky well enough to know that." Then he drummed his fingers on the table. "Your wolf business is all in hand? Dean probably didn't think of that."

Seth nodded. "Full moon isn't for about a week." He rolled his shoulders, feeling the strain start to build. The physical demands of wrestling helped keep the worst of the hungers at bay, but he still had to be careful. 

"Good. Remind me tomorrow and we'll plan your day trip." That was one of their code phrases they used for full moon days, though Seth was sure they could have talked about it out in the open and no one would have believed them. "Have a good night." Once he was far enough away from Seth, he laughed and added, "Who knows? Maybe Charlotte won't be the only one getting some tonight."

"You two are the worst pack ever," Seth muttered, standing up and shoving Roman towards the exit. For a moment the bartender looked worried, not least of all because both Seth and Roman were more imposing than his security guard on duty, but he quickly relaxed when Roman laughed. "Get going or I'll bunk with Dean and then you'll have to explain this mess to Becky." Seth paid off their tab and left a generous tip, taking his time before he had to go up to his new room. It was going to look suspicious if he didn't seem familiar with the layout, so he really hoped the room was identical to the one he was meant to share with Roman.

He also hoped Dean hadn't done something monumentally dumb, like spell out BECKY'S SPOT on the bed with a bunch of condoms.

Getting his new room's second key from the desk clerk as he went to the elevator, Seth tried to clear his mind. These nerves had nothing to do with the upcoming full moon, but that didn't mean they wouldn't affect his wolf, and the last thing he needed to do was wolf out when he was alone with Becky. He was going to be awkward enough as it was.


	3. Chapter 3

Seth lingered in front of the hotel room door, feeling like a damn fool. It was his room. Well, technically it was supposed to be Dean's, but his Shield brothers had apparently thought that shoving him and Becky in a room together was going to help his conflicted feelings rather than complicate them further. At one point, he even went to the room Roman and Dean were sharing just down the hall and knocked on the door as loud as he dared. "Sorry," Dean said when he opened the door, wisely keeping the security chain in place so Seth couldn't force his way in. He pointed to where Roman was sitting on the bed. "My order of 'angsty guy with a compulsion to keep his hair wet' was already fulfilled."

He still stuck his foot in the small gap. "You guys, this is . . . not cool. Hell, I'll sleep on the floor in here. Just let me go tell her she can have the room and I'll get my bag—"

"No can do, bro." Dean shook his head. "The rooms have a two-person maximum. We'll have to have your belated birthday threesome somewhere else." Then he started nudging Seth's foot out of the way.

"Roman? Bro, please?" Seth looked past Dean's shoulder and tried to catch Dean's eye. 

But Roman just shook his head, not even looking up from his phone. "You'll be fine. Just talk to her, man. Like I said, let her vent about Charlotte or whatever. You two are friends, right? I remember her talking to you all the time down in NXT."

Dean's advice was more to the point: a shove to the chest to propel Seth back. "Go," he said simply, shutting the door and locking it before Seth could think to react.

His loitering was starting to attract attention, so Seth sighed and went back to his new room, pulling the second key out of his pocket and tossing it from hand to hand a few times. The incident with Dean made him pause: What if Becky had locked the chain out of habit? He couldn't blame her. The female wrestlers were stronger than a lot of guys, but that didn't make them immune to harassment. Closing his fingers around the room key, he knocked on the door.

A bright flash of light fanned out from beneath the door, and Seth cursed himself. Had he woken her up? He didn't think she would have gone to sleep so quickly, especially not when she seemed to be upset. But then he heard a flurry of footsteps and a moment later, the sound of the chain—clicking _into_ place, he noted, not being released—before the door opened. Becky relaxed visibly when she saw him. "Hey. Sorry. I forgot that you gave me your key." She stepped back and undid the chain, opening the door wide so Seth could enter.

Seth held up the second one. "I got the other one from the desk. Not a problem." He set it down on the table by the door and glanced around. It was a big room, but it was still basically one bedroom with an en suite bathroom. Seth spotted his bag by the bed, and Becky had deposited hers by the balcony doors, almost far away as possible. The couch was at the foot of the bed and there was already a sheet spread across it, one that didn't match the hotel décor. "Where did you get that?"

Becky blushed a bit. "I usually bring a spare sheet with me. Old habits die hard. I had to stay in a lot of cheap places during my twenties, so I got in the habit of always bringing a sheet and a pillowcase. They don't take up much space, and it's better than nothing." 

Seth hadn't noticed the pillowcase until she mentioned it, but it was tucked at the end of the couch nearest the window. A quick glance at the bed showed no pillows missing, so she must have slipped one from the couch inside the pillowcase. "You can have the bed, Becks. I really don't mind." Then his nose twitched. "Is the window open? I smell rain." It was more likely that he smelled the ozone from lightning, but he managed to catch himself before saying that; no human nose would be able to detect that from so far away.

"Oh. Sorry." Becky dashed over to the balcony door and it was the first time since entering the room that Seth actually let himself really look at her. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that went down to her thighs, and he could see the outline of her bra straps at the shoulders—a concession to sleeping in his room, he guessed. "I've always loved rainstorms, so I was just watching it while I was getting ready for bed."

"I've always heard that England gets a lot of rain," Seth remarked, kicking off his shoes and leaving them beside hers at the door. "Doesn't Ireland?" He remembered wrestling with people from Australia and Kenya and other warm places—places that didn't get snow often—and they often romanticized winter until they had to live through one that left their car buried under two feet of snow.

Becky shrugged, lowering herself to the floor by the open balcony door. Seth got the impression that she had been settled in there when he knocked. "I don't know. I mean, it's where I grew up and what I was used to, so I don't know if it was a lot or not. Rain calms me down, though." She leaned her head back against the frame and stuck an arm outside, catching whatever raindrops the wind blew her way.

A low rumble shook the glass doors. "Should probably close it up," Seth said reluctantly. Becky looked so comfortable, so at home there gazing out at the storm-grey skies; she probably would have been sitting out in it if she didn't have to worry about having a wet t-shirt in front of him.

"Yeah, I know." Becky stood slowly, tugging her shirt down as she pulled the balcony doors shut, locked them, and drew the curtains closed. When she turned, she noticed Seth looking at her and she blushed. "Sorry. About the. . . ." She gestured at her bare legs. "Not usually a worry when I'm sharing with Charlotte. I should have something I can wear, though. . . ." 

She started to reach for her bag, but Seth rested his hand on top of it. "It's fine, Becks. I mean, if you want to find something, go ahead, but don't do it on my account. There should be robes in the bathroom." He flinched as he said it; after all, if it was his room, wouldn't he know where the robes were? Clearing his throat, he pointed to the bedside phone. "I was going to order some coffee. Want some, or were you going to sleep right away?"

Becky shook her head. "Not tired enough yet. I should be; being upset always wears me out. And I'm not even upset, really. I just—" She stopped and gave him a skewed smile. "Right. I shouldn't saddle with you that. Um . . . just do your thing, whatever that is." The expression that crossed her face was something Seth could only describe as half embarrassed, half curious. "If you need me to . . . not be here, I can always go . . . get coffee!" She perked up so quickly Seth nearly stumbled back in surprise. "Don't call room service. I'll go get coffee from downstairs and you can do . . . whatever you need to do." She grabbed her purse and the original key from the long dresser that faced the couch and also doubled as a television stand. "Be right back."

"Uh, Becks?" Seth cleared his throat just as Becky was reaching for the door and when she turned to look at him, he waved vaguely at her bare legs. "Don't you think . . . uh, pants?"

"Right! Right." Becky grabbed the pants she had been wearing from a pile on the floor by her bag and quickly pulled them on. "Right. Sorry. Uh, any coffee requests? Don't get all Cesaro on me, because I'm sure they're not going to have much." She put her shoes on without prompting.

Seth shook his head. "Plain coffee's fine. Thanks." He watched her duck out of the room before flopping down on the bed. It was bad enough that he felt awkward; his nerves seemed to be feeding into hers and vice versa, which was going to make for a very uncomfortable night. While she was gone, he took a quick shower and decided to wear his workout shorts as pyjamas. She saw his bare chest at every wrestling event, after all, so he figured it wouldn't bother her.

After twenty minutes went by, he started to wonder where she was. Had she found another woman on the roster to stay with and simply decided to abandon her bag until the morning? Did she run into trouble downstairs? Seth got up and started to reach for his shirt when he caught some familiar scents: coffee, sugary icing, and Becky's shampoo. _Why do I know what her shampoo smells like?_ he thought as he went to get the door; she probably had her hands full.

The sudden opening of the door startled Becky on the other side, making her jump back. Luckily the two coffee cups perched on top of a pastry box had travel lids and only splattered slightly. "Ack! Hi!" She held out the pastry box like a tray. "They're both plain, so take your pick."

Seth took the pastry box from her as well and leaned against the door so she could get through. "Thanks. What's in the box?"

"Anything they had left. I thought the café staff would be pissed that I was coming so late," Becky confided, "but they were actually glad because it meant they could get rid of most of the stuff and not have to throw it out. There should be donuts, a couple turnovers, some blueberry muffins. Not your regular CrossFit Jesus fare, I know," she joked, "but pickings were slim."

It was the first time since he saw her in the bar that she had looked comfortable in his presence, and it make Seth relax in turn. Setting the coffees aside, he opened the box and set it on the dresser by the television, leaving the other side for Becky to put her purse. "Thanks, Becks. Anything particular you want?"

Becky shook her head. "Not really. Have at it."

When Seth glanced over at her, she had kicked off her shoes and had reached for the waistband of her pants, but stopped. "Don't worry about me," he said. "I see your legs pretty much every time you wrestle, you know. Unless you're secretly a mermaid and that's why you're pissed at Charlotte: now you can't stretch out your tail."

Laughing, Becky hesitated for a moment before peeling her pants off and setting them aside. "Sure, but there's context, you know. It's the difference between seeing someone in lingerie and seeing them in a bikini. The same bits are covered, but one is usually meant to be intimate and the other . . . not so much."

"I guess." Betting Becky would go for the donut with the blue icing and multi-coloured sprinkles, Seth chose one with a jam filling. "So," he said, lowering himself to the floor and leaning against the dresser, lifting the coffees down one at a time, "do you want to talk about the Charlotte thing?" Roman seemed to think it was a good place to start, but Seth wasn't so sure. In Becky's place, he probably would have wanted to talk about anything but.

Becky shrugged, picking the sprinkle-covered donut as he predicted. She took longer to sit, self-conscious of her bare legs, and looked at the couch across from them. "I can take the sheet off so we can sit," she offered. "It would probably be more comfortable."

"I'm good if you are." Seth tried to watch her out of the corner of her eye as she settled. Her shirt had ridden up around her hips and she pushed it back down as best she could. "And you don't have to talk about Charlotte if you don't want to."

"I know." Becky peeled the lid from her coffee and set it to the side to cool a bit. "Like I said, I'm not even really upset. I just wish she would _think_ more about how what she does affects others. It was just like . . . she wanted to get laid, and that's that. Doesn't matter that the hotel's full. She just expects me to find someone else to room with."

"She's a Flair," Seth replied. "She's used to getting her way."

Becky let her head fall back against the dresser. "Don't get me wrong. She's a great friend and I've learned a ton from her. And I'm sure I have my traits that annoy her. . . ."

"But you wouldn't kick her out just so you could hook up with someone." Before his mind could stray too far down that road, Seth stood up and went to his bag, grabbing his mp3 player and ear buds. Becky didn't seem to want to talk about Charlotte, but music should be safe enough. He knew that she liked a lot of the same bands and genres that he did, so he found one of his playlists filled with newer music. "These guys are from Wales. Have you heard them before?" he asked, handing Becky an ear bud and watching as she tucked hair behind her ear to get it in.

Glancing at the screen, Becky shook her head. "I've been slacking on music lately. I never did get my mp3 player back from my last boyfriend's place and I've been too lazy or too busy to get another one, so I've just been putting stuff on my phone." She shut her eyes and started to bop along to the music. "This is good, though. I'll have to buy it."

"They got me through the rehab on my knee," Seth admitted. When that song was over, he skipped over a few. "The singer on this track did some stuff for _Game of Thrones_. Really haunting stuff."

Even with his mp3 player in his hand, Seth lost track of time as they shuffled through his playlists, talking about music and making recommendations. Becky had grabbed her phone and made a memo with a bunch of band names, and Seth made a mental note of the songs she seemed to like most. "Wow. I didn't realize how much I missed that—just . . . sitting and listening to the music and not doing two or three other things at the same time." When she realized Seth was watching her, she blushed a bit. "It sounds stupid, I know, but—"

"It doesn't," Seth assured her. "It's nice to just appreciate it on its own, to give it all your attention while you're listening."

"Yeah." Becky held his gaze for a moment before glancing at their coffee cups, long since forgotten. "Oops. Probably cold." She dipped a finger in hers and nodded. "I'd offer to get us fresh ones, but they're probably closed now. Would the bar serve coffee?"

Seth shook his head. "Don't worry about it." Just sitting and talking with her had done more for him than the caffeine would have. "The donuts are still good." His was half-eaten, abandoned on the lid of his coffee, and he finished it quickly. As he licked his fingers clean, he heard a soft hitch of breath—quiet enough that a human would have missed it—and glanced over to see Becky's eyes darken as she watched him.

As soon as he turned towards her, Becky flinched, reaching for their cold coffees. "I'll go dump these in the bathroom," she said, stepping lightly over Seth's extended legs. Without a free hand to tug her shirt down, Becky's legs were enticingly bare. 

The sudden slosh of the coffees in the sink, followed by the thunder of water from the faucet to wash everything down, grated on Seth's ears, but he stayed where he was, powering down his mp3 player and winding up the ear buds to stow them away. When Becky returned, shirt tugged back down, Seth rose to his feet. "Take the bed," he insisted. "I'll swap pillows with you so you can have your pillowcase."

Still clearly flustered, Becky shook her head, fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt. Seth couldn’t remember ever seeing her act like that around anyone, not even when one of her boyfriends would be at an event backstage. "No. That's not right. It's your room, and you're way taller than me. You'll fall off that in three seconds."

"I'll be fine. I can sleep on the floor too. I've slept on worse, trust me." When Becky tried to get to the couch before he could, he planted himself in the middle of it. "Nope. I've got dibs. You'll just have to sleep in the bed. Roman will never let me hear the end of it if he finds out I made you sleep on the couch."

Becky shook her head. "The couch was what I agreed to. Get your ass in the bed, Rollins." She reached down and tugged on his hands, but he wasn't budging. "Come on, Seth. You're already being nice and letting me crash here. I know you value your alone time, and because of me you're not getting any."

"I'll have my alone time here on the couch," Seth countered, grabbing Becky's forearms when she pulled too hard and started to stumble. "If you want to read or whatever, use the lamp. Otherwise I'm good."

"Seth, I mean it—"

She pulled, the motion full of focus and intention. Seth couldn't say for certain if he had pulled on her arms as well or if she just faltered, though he was pretty sure he had something to do with the fact that she crashed into his lap, grabbing at his shoulders for balance. Her heartbeat was pure punk rock, loud and discordant, and she couldn’t seem to uncurl her fingers from his shirt. Her eyes, so dark before, were dew-bright for an instant, and then they shut.

And she kissed him. It was just a brush of lips at first, testing her both resolve and her welcome, but then she pressed closer, arms sliding around his neck, and she moaned against his mouth when his hands slid up her thighs. The kiss stayed deep and slow until his fingers reached the sides of her panties and slipped under. "_Fuck_." It was a curse and a prayer and an admonition all at once, and Becky turned her face away while she caught her breath. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I. . . ." She shook her head and tried to back off his lap, but Seth's hands had curled around her hips. "Shit, Seth. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Why?" The single word made her look at him with confusion laced through with hurt and she went still under his hands. "I liked it, in case you couldn't tell." He didn't mean to refer to his erection, but that's where Becky's gaze went first, and it felt like her whole body was blushing.

"You have a girlfriend. The hairstylist. I . . . I can't remember her name." Her eyes fluttered shut when Seth stroked his thumbs back and forth over her hips.

"We broke up a few weeks ago. Call Roman and ask if you don't believe me." Seth jerked his head towards the dresser, but he had no intention of letting her go unless she asked him to, and judging from the look in her eyes, he wouldn't have to worry about that. "For the record," he said, voice shaking, "this isn't why I offered for you to stay. . . ." 

Becky's laugh was uneven and though she had unwound her arms from Seth's neck, her hands lingered on his shoulders. "I know. I just—" She slid a hand down his chest, lingering over his heart. "I shouldn't. You're fresh off a break-up, and I'm—"

"I'm good with going however far you want to go." When Becky rested her forehead against his, Seth's fingers clenched. If anyone had told him that Becky Lynch would be half-naked in his lap that night, he would have laughed. He also would have had a hell of a time getting the visual out of his head, because it was something he had thought of more than once. The reality of her—her skin, soft and incredibly warm; her dark eyes with depths of green; the lips he would never look at the same way again—was far better than any dream, though.

He expected her to retreat, to stammer more apologies as she stumbled away to pull on her pants, jam her things in her bag, and head out to find one of her fellow female wrestlers to bunk with. He definitely didn't anticipate the hunger in her gaze or the way she pressed closer, swearing as she felt his cock. "Fuck it," she said, kissing him again, harder and hungrier this time, thighs tightening around his hips.

Just as they had lost all sense of time while basking in the music, Seth was sent reeling by having Becky in his lap. The kisses were nothing like any first kisses he'd had before; these were deep and hungry and yet familiar, the way you kissed someone who had been away too long. They had managed to get her shirt off at some point, though Seth honestly couldn't remember breaking the kiss, and when the lights flickered, he distantly remembered there was still a storm. He wished he could fuck her out on the balcony in the wind and rain, or at least press her against the glass so every peal of thunder tickled her skin, but he settled for unfastening her bra and peeling it away. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he growled against her collarbone as he kissed his way down to her breasts.

Becky wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady herself. "Seth, do you have . . . any—"

A sharp gasp cut her question short, but Seth knew what she meant, and it made his hands go still on her back. His gaze dropped to her hips and lower, the bright blue panties that didn't match her red bra at all. The wet spot spreading between her legs made him want to sink his teeth into her shoulder, so he settled for nuzzling her neck hard enough for his beard to scratch. "No. I . . . I didn't think I'd be needing any." Lots of wrestlers had one-nighters when they were on the road, but that wasn't his style.

"Fuck." Becky's eyes were shut and she looked ready to scream. They sat like that for at least a full, agonizing minute—Seth counted, willing his erection to subside—before she opened her eyes and looked at him. "I shouldn't," she murmured, more to herself than anything. "I know I shouldn't, but. . . ."

Seth settled his hands around her hips. If he wanted to be fair, he would've stopped touching her at all, but her skin was too enticing. "But what?" The growl in his voice was so low that he had to look at his arms to make sure he hadn't started shifting. Strong emotions could trigger the transformation if he wasn't careful, and he was definitely drowning in some intense feelings at the moment; he felt like he was going to burst.

"Fuck, I want you so bad." She said it like a confession, and somehow that made it all the hotter. Seth slipped a hand between her legs and pressed against the wet patch on her panties, making her squeal. "Oh, fuck! _Fuck_. Please, Seth, god, please. . . ."

The next few moments were all hands: Seth tugging her panties out of the way, Becky shoving his shorts down enough to get his cock out, fingers in hair and between teeth and tangled in cloth. When Becky finally slid down on him, Seth said a silent thank you for the sheet she had spread out on the couch. It would contain any mess until they could make their way over to the bed, and given how Becky was riding him, close and demanding, he didn't think it would be any time soon.


	4. Chapter 4

When Seth woke up curled around Becky's warm body, fear darted around in his thoughts like a moth seeking light. After that first time on the couch—neither of them had lasted long—they ended up against the wall and then somehow on the floor before they ever made it to the bed, passion chipping away at his control with each touch, each kiss. Whenever Becky would pause for a breath, he had checked his hands to make sure he hadn't started to shift. Now she was spooned against him tightly, barely enough room for sweat between them, but from what Seth could see, he was still resolutely human.

Sleeping next to her was almost as good at the sex, and he was pretty sure he never wanted to fuck a woman who couldn't push him down and hold him there ever again; her eyes had been as wild as a forest then, and for a moment he wasn't sure which one of them was truly a wolf. Halfway through their sex-shortened sleep, Becky rolled over to face him, still half-asleep, and he was amazed by now naturally they fitted together again. He had no idea what she was saying when she started moaning in Irish, but he loved it all the same.

Becky whimpered occasionally in her sleep, cuddling closer whenever Seth moved, so he nuzzled the back of her neck, pushing long curls out of his way. "Good morning," he murmured against her shoulder.

"Has been so far," she replied sleepily, pressing back against him.

Seth was about to roll her over when he realized what had woken him up: the sound of footsteps approaching. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door and he leapt out of the bed, grabbing for his shorts and nearly tripping as he yanked them on. "Dean," he muttered, "I'm going to kill you—"

But it was Roman at the door with a smile and two travel coffee cups, one stacked on top of the other. "Morning, Seth." He gave Seth a knowing grin as he took in his rumpled hair and shorts that Seth only just realized were on backwards. Then he peered around Seth's shoulder and added, "Morning, Becks."

As he took the coffees, Seth started to lie and say she was in the bathroom, but when he followed Roman's gaze, he saw long tendrils of red curls peeking out from the covers; she had obviously tried to duck under the blankets, but hadn't quite made it in time. Heaving a sigh, Becky pulled the blanket back just enough to peek out. "Morning, Roman. Thanks for the coffee."

"Sure thing. Dean's saving us a table for breakfast," Roman added, stepping back. "See you two down there." When he was further down the hall, he shot Seth a wink.

"Sorry." Becky was scooting to the side of the bed, already looking for her clothes. "I should have got up early and snuck out so they wouldn't bug you. . . ."

Seth could hardly tell her that his friends had been trying to set him up with her, so he just shut the door and tossed her bra over to her. "It's fine. We're all adults, right?"

"Yeah. I'll just. . . ." Becky started to head to the bathroom, grabbing her toiletry kit on the way, but Seth was standing between her and the en suite's door. "Seth. . . ."

He wouldn't have asked if the desire in her eyes didn't rival the delicious tension in his shoulders. "We don't have to go right now," he pointed out, voice husky as his gaze drifted down her body. Small bruises were blossoming around her hips and along her inner thighs and he wanted to taste them all, press his tongue against them to see how much resistance they gave. 

For a moment, he expected her to shake her head and politely decline, to say they should get going before they gave everyone even more reason to spread rumours. Instead she almost leapt at him, dragging his head down to hers and kissing him hungrily. "Well, we both need a shower, right. . . ?"

As they stumbled into the bathroom, Seth trying to kick off his shorts while Becky turned on the water, he wondered if her fascination with the rain the night before was actually part of a water kink. Not that he minded. They even somehow managed to get mostly clean, though Seth eventually had to put her down so she could wash her hair without tangling it beyond all hope. "Take your time," he said, letting his hand trail down her back as he stepped out of the shower. "My hair's easy."

With the distraction of Becky now behind a door in the bathroom, Seth made himself focus on drying off and getting dressed, texting Roman quickly to let him know they would be on their way. Then he stripped Becky's sheet and pillowcase from the couch and folded them, setting them on top of her bag as he drank his coffee, now only lukewarm. When Becky emerged, swaddled in one of the hotel bathrobes, she shot him a shy smile. "Thanks. I'll be quick. If you want to go on ahead, feel free."

"I'll wait." He set his bag by the door and sat on the couch.

Becky had braided her wet hair and it fell in a thick rope as she opened her bag and pulled out fresh clothes, shoving in the items she had used yesterday with little care. As she straightened up, she noticed Seth watching her and she laughed, gaze dropping. "Nothing new to see here," she claimed, unrolling a pair of leggings. "I'm pretty sure you had the full tour last night."

Seth tried not to stare. People had always told him his gaze was intense, and he got the sense they didn't always mean it in a good way. Becky's pulse always sped up a bit when she caught him looking at her, and he was becoming addicted to the sound. "Sorry," he said, standing up. "I should give you some privacy."

"It's okay. I don't mind. I've been changing in locker rooms since I was fifteen, remember? Sometimes mixed ones, depending on how big the promotion was." Her blush returned as she added, "And like I said, it's not like you haven't seen it before. It'll be like a strip tease in reverse, I guess."

There was a strange appeal to that too, Seth found, watching her step into her panties and then pull her leggings up. He was tempted to ask if she needed help with her bra, but she had it on and fastened within the blink of an eye. After she shrugged into her shirt, the only skin she had left visible was her face, neck, and arms, but he could remember every inch of her. "All good?" His voice was thick, tangled with wants and needs. Breakfast was important, sure, but that's what drive-thrus were for.

Becky did a quick glance around the room, making sure she hadn't left anything behind. She spared her phone a quick glance, but if Charlotte had called or texted, Becky didn't seem inclined to respond right away. "Let's go. Everyone else is probably done already."

Elevators were deceptive, Seth knew. They could feel close and intimate simply because they were small, but they almost always had cameras. If he wanted to say anything to her, at least without Roman and Dean there, he would have to do it soon. So he leaned close as they waited for the elevator, his fingers finding her palm and lightly tracing the lines there. "You're amazing," he said, keeping his voice low. "You can top me any time."

A surprised laugh burst out of Becky's mouth, and Seth was cheated out of her reply by the opening elevator doors. "Um . . . same?" Her gaze flicked up to the corner of the elevator car where the camera was obviously placed behind a protective dome. "To the first part, anyway." She might not have been willing to say anything overt, but her smirk spoke volumes. 

"I'm open to negotiations," Seth replied, leaning back in the corner.

When they arrived in the hotel's dining area, most of the tables were full, but Roman stood and waved them over. A server spotted them and headed towards the table as well, so Seth and Becky hurried to take their seats and give the menu a cursory glance before ordering. After the server left, Roman pointed to a carafe of coffee at the centre of the table. "I thought your other coffees might have gone cold," he said, eyebrow twitching up as they tucked their bags under the table so they were out of the way.

Seth glanced over at Becky, trying to gauge if she was uncomfortable. Roman had clearly seen her in the bed; he might not have told Dean that outright, but Dean would have pieced things together on his own. For the most part, though, Becky was acting like it was any other morning, aside from not letting her gaze linger on Seth for too long. "Thanks, Roman. Hi, Dean."

"Hey, Lynch." There was a croissant left on his plate and he slid it onto hers. "Breakfast of champions," he declared.

Seth spread his hands wide. "What the hell, man? Nothing for me?"

While Roman laughed, Dean seemed to reach for something in his pocket. A few seconds later, while Becky was busy pouring coffee and asking Dean if he wanted more, Seth's phone beeped and he glanced down quickly to see a message. _I think we helped you out enough last night, from the looks of things._ Seth quickly deleted the message so Becky wouldn't see it.

As they fell into easy chatter, Seth was practically beaming. He had worried that Becky would feel awkward or that Dean or Roman might say something that made her feel out of place, but she fit right in at their table. She was devouring her breakfast and sharing indie horror stories with Dean when Charlotte approached from the other side, looking somewhat chagrined. From her posture alone, Seth could tell that her plans either hadn't panned out or hadn't been as enjoyable as she hoped. "Hey, Becks. Sasha and Bayley and I are just over—"

Becky glanced up to meet her eyes briefly. "I'm good here, thanks."

Charlotte pursed her lips, reminding Seth of the expression his mother would get when she really should have disciplined him, but didn't want to make a scene in public. "Look, Becky, I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again—"

"Sorry, Charlotte. This is a circle of friends," Dean said, making a motion to encompass the table. "_Friends_. Not opportunists."

Becky started to protest, but Roman jumped into the fray. "The table's square, Dean. See? Corners." He patted the corner nearest to Charlotte.

"Yeah, and we call a wrestling ring a _squared circle_. Don't make me go back to Kindergarten, man. That 'sharing the sandbox' shit was hard enough the first time around." Dean then turned and ignored Charlotte completely. 

The look of astonishment on Charlotte's face was almost comical. She clearly wasn't used to being challenged, let alone outright ignored. With both Seth and Roman chuckling under their breath, Becky cleared her throat and took a long swallow of coffee before replying. "We can talk after breakfast, Char."

Charlotte clearly wanted to protest; the strain in her jaw was painful to see. "Okay then. Text me when you're done, I guess." She lingered for a moment, probably expecting Becky to relent and join her, but she eventually turned and made her way back to the table she was sharing with Bayley and Sasha.

The three Shield brothers wisely stayed silent, leaving the first post-Charlotte comment in Becky's court, and Becky took her time, finishing the croissant Dean gave her before leaning back in her chair. "Thanks for the back-up," she said simply. "Anyone want more coffee or can I have the last bit?"

Roman gave her a wide smile that lit up his whole face. "Have at it." He finished the last few bites of his meal and stood, reaching for his bag. "I'm gonna go make my calls, so I'll catch up with you later, boys. Becky, you're welcome at our table any time, whether Charlotte's being shitty or not." He reached over Seth's head to give her a fist bump.

"Thanks, Roman." She laughed as Roman thumped Seth's back hard enough to make Seth's coffee slosh onto his plate. 

Seth expected that Dean would find some reason, real or fabricated, to make his exit as well, but he stayed planted in his chair; whether it was to annoy Charlotte or Seth himself, he didn't know. He was at least being nice to Becky, talking about Renee and their dogs. When he finally stood and stretched, Dean pointed to Becky's bag. "If you want to ride with us and avoid Her Highness for a while longer, you can. As long as you have a high tolerance for fart jokes."

Becky just laughed. "I have a brother, you know." When she pushed her chair back, though, she shot Seth a bittersweet look. "I should probably go talk to Charlotte. It's not fair for Bayley and Sasha to be bearing the brunt of her mood."

Studiously avoiding looking at Dean, Seth nodded, scooting his chair out of the way so Becky could get her bag. "Sure. Talk soon?" It sounded pitifully dismissive in light of the previous night, but he didn't exactly want to say something like _Let me know when you feel like fucking again_ in front of everyone either.

"Sure." Becky gestured vaguely to his phone, which he had left on the table after his text from Dean. "You've got my number."

"I don't," Dean piped up, grinning when Seth glared at him.

Becky put up a hand in surrender. "Renee has it. So does Seth. You can get it from one of them." She gave Seth one last, lingering look before heading over to the table with the rest of the Four Horsewomen. As she approached, he had three very different looks tossed his way: Bayley looked pleasantly surprised, Sasha was giving him a warning glare, and Charlotte looked like she wanted to shove his fork down his throat. 

When Seth caught Dean looking his way, he shook his head sharply. "No. Because I don't want to say something and ruin everything."

Dean reached over and stole some hash browns from Seth's plate. "So there's something to ruin? Good to know." He stood and patted Seth's shoulder before grabbing both of their bags. "I'll go load up. Don't stare or else Charlotte will gut you. Sasha would probably help."

Seth wasn't sure what to expect. He certainly didn't expect to start dating Becky based off one incredible night, and he knew it was probably too presumptuous to expect a repeat in the next hotel that night. He also didn't expect a text from Bayley that evening, saying Becky was in the hospital, injured at the house show. As soon as he got that text, he tried to get in touch with Becky every way he knew how: text, calling, even the old email she had used back when they were in NXT. When Becky finally replied, it was a simple text, but he had no idea how he was supposed to take it: _I'm out for a minimum of three months._

"Maybe it's your dick," Dean said with Seth shared the news with his Shield brothers. "Maybe it curses every girl you fuck."

Roman gave him a punch to the shoulder. "Dean-o, don't. She's upset, Seth. She's been working really hard and now she's on the shelf and she's going to lose all her momentum. Give her some time to get used to rehab and being out, and then call her again. She'll probably be happy to talk to you."

But as the weeks turned to months, the relationship remained purely textual. Becky didn't answer any of his calls, though she always apologized—via text—for missing them. When he offered to come visit and help her with some CrossFit training, she just said she had a good program going on, but she appreciated the offer. All the while, his transformations became more and more difficult.

"Dude, just go get laid by someone. _Please_," Dean begged once after Seth had snapped at him for the hundredth time. "Yeah, it won't be Becky, but move on." His advice coincided with a friend trying to set him up on a blind date with a girl named Jenna, and before Seth knew it, life was orderly again: girlfriend on the weekend, wrestling during the week, shifting on the full moon. She was sweet, too, vivacious and loud, a nice counterpoint to the strange structure of his wrestling schedule. After a while, he barely even noticed that Becky wasn't texting him anymore.

The weeks turned to months, and the relationship dipped into one of its first ruts, the type every wrestler seemed to experience if they dated someone who wasn't in the industry: Jenna was complaining that he wasn't around enough. He was used to the complaint, but with the full moon just around the corner, it grated on him more than it usually did. He even asked Hunter if he could work a house show he wasn't scheduled for just to have an outlet for his frustration. Hunter was surprised by the request—most of the wrestlers wanted more time off on the weekends, not less—and quickly arranged a match against Elias. "Probably won't lead into anything," Hunter said with a shrug, "but you never know."

Neither Roman nor Dean were scheduled for that particular show, but that was just as well for Seth; he didn't feel like company in the car, and this way he could have the music as loud as he liked. The bass thumped through him like a second pulse and even after he parked at the arena, he waited until the song was done to shut the car off and get out. Hunter must have kept his appearance a secret, because everyone from cameramen to wrestlers seemed surprised to see him. "You're going to get the pop of the night," Dolph noted as Seth was lacing up his boots in the locker room. "And then of course, tomorrow Twitter's going to be full of pissed-off fans complaining that they would have bought a ticket if they'd known you were appearing."

Seth shrugged it off. Part of the magic of a house show was never knowing what was going to happen. He knew that from when he was a kid. Of course, the same 'surprise appearances' often happened two or three times that same week, but back then, there was no internet, no Instagram to share photos or blogs to do detailed rundowns of matches. Each event was ephemeral.

He was on his way to prepare for his entrance when he caught a flash of red, a familiar throaty laugh, and then he saw Becky standing by Tamina, looking at something on Tamina's phone. When Becky noticed him in turn, she looked almost stricken, but she still raised a hand in a weak wave. Her expression knocked him off guard enough that he faltered in his match, Elias having to whisper calls when they were grappling. The match couldn't end soon enough for Seth, but at house shows he was known for hanging around, posing for pictures and signing things for fans. He could only hope that Becky would still be backstage when he got there.

"Is Becky still here?" Seth asked the first tech he saw once he got backstage.

The tech nodded slowly. "I think so. She and Dana were travelling together, but they had car troubles, so they're waiting for the rental company to come with a replacement."

Perfect. It would give Seth the chance to offer her—and Dana—a ride, a chance to talk to her without the conversation instantly turning to the one-nighter that was etched into his mind or the strange rift that had followed. "Okay, thanks." He was going to go to the locker room to shower and change, but detoured to the parking area first. With Becky's bright hair, she and Dana were easy to spot and he jogged over. "Hey. Heard you were having car troubles?"

Becky's gaze was a tangle of emotions, but her voice was almost perfectly normal. "Yeah. The engine died, so we called the rental company and they're sending a replacement. It should be here in about an hour."

Seth pointed over to his car. "I can give you both a ride to wherever you're staying," he offered. "Just let me get changed. I won’t take long."

Becky almost looked like she was going to reject the offer, but Dana was simply grateful. "You're the best, Seth. I thought we were going to be stuck here waiting forever."

"No worries. Give me ten minutes, and call the rental place so they can just drop your car at the hotel," he advised. Holding Becky's gaze for a second, he nodded and headed to the locker room, showering in record time. 

Dana was still on the phone when he got back, so Becky grabbed Dana's bag plus her own and brought them over to Seth's car. "Thanks for the save. We appreciate it."

"Of course." Seth held the trunk door open so Becky had enough room to put the bags in. "I didn't realize you were back." As soon as he said it, he winced: there was no way it didn't sound at least a bit accusatory.

But Becky just nodded, spending more time adjusting the placement of the bags than strictly necessary. "Tonight's my first night back. They thought they would ease me in with a few house shows to make sure I'm in fighting shape."

"Well, you look good—" Seth stopped short and concentrated on putting his bag in the trunk so he wouldn't have to look at Becky. He'd barely been back in her presence for five minutes and he was already flirting. It had to be the impending full moon.

"Of course she does!" Dana interjected, tucking her phone in her coat. "Her boyfriend's some MMA champ, isn't he? They probably work out together all the time." Then she laughed and mimed air-quotes. "Or should that be 'work out'?"

Becky tried to roll her eyes and brush off the comment, but Seth could tell she was blushing. A new boyfriend, then. Damn. Not that he could blame her—or the guy, for that matter. It explained why her texts had dropped off, at least. "You want shotgun?" Becky offered, looking over to Dana.

It might have been easier if Dana had said yes, putting some distance between Seth and Becky, but she shook her head. "I think I tweaked my knee. I can stretch out more in the back, if that’s cool with you."

"Sure." Becky slid into the passenger seat easily enough, and it wasn't as if she huddled close to the door, but the stiffness to her posture made Seth feel conflicted. He would never want Becky to feel uncomfortable, but the very fact that she did seemed to hint that there was something left unspoken between them. He almost laughed as his predicament: Roman and Dean had interfered when he didn't want them to, and it had pushed him and Becky together but now, when he could have used Roman's advice or Dean's encouragement, they were in another city completely. "Thanks again for the ride," Becky said, handing him a card for the hotel. "That's us. Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere yet," he admitted. Deciding to do the house show had been an act of impulse and he hadn't thought much beyond wrestling and wearing off some energy. "I'll check to see if this place has any rooms open. If not, there ought to be something close."

When he turned, he found Becky watching him, the spark of recognition in her eyes the same as the one that was making his hands shake. He wasn't sure if he believed in fate, but surely it had to mean something that Becky's first night back just happened to be at the same house show he wasn't scheduled to appear at but chose to anyway. 

Somehow he didn't think he was going to be given an invitation to her room, though, and not just because she was likely sharing with Dana. Just like Roman had implied, Seth always missed his chance. Glancing up at the darkening sky, Seth was reminded of another factor, one that had a far greater pull on his body than lust ever could: the moon. It wasn't full yet, but he could still feel the call, another complication thrown into an already heady mix.


	5. Chapter 5

Seth had been expecting Becky to ditch him at the earliest possible moment when they reached the hotel, claiming Dana needed her help or something. But Dana didn't wait for Becky at all. "I'm going to let the front desk know about the car that's coming," she said, "and I'll just have them bring the keys up to my room. Don't bother waiting for them."

Becky nodded and pointed at Dana's bag. "Need a hand getting settled?"

"No, I'm good." When Dana smiled, Seth expected to see a knowing wink or something along those lines, but it was the same friendly grin she gave all her fellow wrestlers. "Thanks for the offer, though. You should catch up with Seth. You haven't seen him for months either. Catch you at breakfast!"

Seth went still, trying to focus on catching up. From what was said back at the arena, he had assumed that Becky and Dana were travelling together, but now it sounded like Dana had her own room booked. The women usually always doubled up, not just to cut costs but because there was safety in numbers. He remembered horror stories from the Divas Era where some of the women were stalked by obsessed fans, followed back to their hotel rooms or tailed on the highway. Once Dana was out of earshot, Seth turned to Becky. "Did you say anything to her?"

Annoyance flashed through Becky's eyes before she shook her head. "No. My scheduling was last minute too. I just told the McMahons I felt good enough to get back in the ring, and they chose this event because it was close to the surgeon in case anything went wrong." Then she gestured awkwardly at the front desk. "I'll cover your room for the night to pay you back for the ride. We would probably still be waiting there for the replacement car if you hadn't offered."

"Becks . . . Becky." He wasn't sure if he should even use that simple nickname anymore, one fans used freely. Damn, he was going to drown in this rift between them soon. "Really, it's fine. I was there, and I was going to end up driving to a hotel anyway, so why not this one?" He gestured around at the lobby, plain but clean. "Seems nice enough for a night."

Becky hesitated, gaze dropping to her bag as her fingers tightened around the handle. "I don't mind. Or. . . ." When she raised her head again, there was something in her gaze that almost made Seth growl. It took him right back to that night when she had fallen onto his lap—or had he pulled her down? Even now he wasn't sure. "We could share. I would take the couch." With a skewed smile, capped by a blush, she added, "For real this time."

It was a bad idea for so many reasons. The full moon was perilously close. He and Becky had never really talked about what happened the first time they shared a room.

Plus he had a girlfriend. He should have been embarrassed by how long it took him to add that factor to the list, but it was hard to think about anything when he could hear Becky's heart starting to race.

"Only if you're cool with it." Seth stayed a polite step behind as Becky collected the room's second key from the desk clerk. "I have enough problems with Lesnar. I don't want to upset your MMA boyfriend." It was a subtle jab, fishing for his name, but Becky didn't rise to the bait. She simply pressed the summons button for the elevator and tightened her grip on her bag. Seth hated to see her sinking into silence, so he tried a more positive approach. "Dana said you work out with him. Did you meet him while you were doing your rehab?"

"Yeah." The elevator doors opened then, and Seth was halfway surprised that Becky didn't leap in and try to close the doors before he could get on. She just settled in a corner, though, keeping her bag in front of her. Her heart was still racing, and if he had to use one word to describe her energy, it would have been _torn_—not only torn between two options, whatever those were, but shredded and fraying as well. Something was bothering her and his reappearance had only made it worse.

"Becky, if you need some space. . . ." By the time Seth had worked up the courage to say anything, they had arrived at her floor, so he followed her off awkwardly, bag almost catching in the door. "I can go back down and get my own room," he said, gesturing to the shutting doors of the elevator. "Not a big deal."

"I'll be fine." Her smile was so forced it hurt. Did she really think she meant that little to him that he wouldn’t be able to see through that? 

"It's not fine," Seth insisted, stepping in front of the suite's card reader before Becky could swipe them in. "And you're not fine. I don't want to upset you even more, so I won't ask what's going on, but if I'm going to make things worse just by being here. . . ."

"God, Rollins, just _shut up already_." Becky sounded more agonized than annoyed, and when Seth caught movement out of the corner of his eye, he initially thought she was going to slap him, but the position of her fingers was all wrong. It was more of a grabbing motion than a striking one.

Had she been moving to kiss him? Her energy was all over the place and almost impossible to read. There was definitely some lust in the mix, and a weird thread of relief, but brewing beneath all that was an ache, pulsing like a bruise and just as dark.

Seth would have given anything to be able to stop time right then, just for a minute so he could call Roman for advice, or even Dean. But it was just him and Becky and she was already in the suite now, kicking her shoes off and shoving her bag off to the side and striding over to the window to open the curtains. A chilling possibility came to mind and he left his bag by the door. "Becky, is everything all right? Your boyfriend's not. . . ." He didn't even want to think it, let alone say it.

Becky whirled on him, hurt making her gaze soft. "What? No. No. This . . . this was a bad idea. I should have known. I'll . . . I'll go get another room and you can have this one and—" Her startled gasp when Seth lightly grabbed her arm was almost painful to hear. "Seth, I can't. . . ."

"I'll stay fully dressed and on the couch, I promise." Seth glanced around the room and was glad to note that this suite's couch was longer than his had been; at least he wouldn’t be falling off it in the middle of the night. "Or I can leave. I don't want to cause problems for you." He let go of her arm and stepped back, watching her intently. 

Becky shut her eyes and turned away from him, but he could see her wavering reflection in the balcony window and knew she was clenching her fists. "I don't want you to leave," she said softly. If he didn't have werewolf hearing, he wasn't sure if he would have caught it. "_That's_ the problem."

Seth stepped up behind her, letting her get used his presence before wrapping his arms around her lightly. She let out a shuddering sigh, but she didn't relax back against him fully. "Why is that a problem?" he asked, voice equally light as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Because I have a boyfriend." She reached up and curled her fingers around his. He could feel the ache in her starting to ebb a bit, the energy dividing itself between her lust and her sense of relief. "And you're seeing someone too. I saw the pictures on Instagram. . . ."

He cursed Jenna's love of selfies. When she just wanted to keep the pictures on her phone, it wasn't that bad, but then she started complaining that he never talked about her online the way other wrestlers talked about their partners. "I don't care." The words came out before he could even think about them or worry about how Becky might interpret them. Brushing his lips along the back of her neck, he added, "I'd rather have one more night with you than a hundred with her."

Becky's breath caught so suddenly, so sharply, that Seth felt it against his chest like a snapped rubber band. "Seth, we—"

"I have condoms this time." In a near-moon haze, he had thought if he had a one-night stand, he could sabotage his relationship with Jenna and get out before either of them started developing deeper feelings for the other. "Not that I knew you'd be here, but—"

"God, Rollins, _shut up_." Becky turned around in the circle of his arms so quickly her belt buckle nicked his hand, but he barely noticed. She raised her hand again, just like before, but there was no mistaking her intent this time. Her fingers grabbed his hair and yanked his mouth down to hers, and she kissed him with all the desperation and discord he had felt since she'd left his bed months ago.

Their mouths, their hands, their hips: they were all hungry and angry and fierce, only allowing pauses for breath because air was necessary for more kisses. Seth picked her up roughly and nearly tripped over her bag, but then he steadied them both against the wall. He couldn't remember ever being so horny, but the wolf's voice was still loud and clear: _Be careful_. So close to the full moon, it would be too easy to lose control, especially when Becky didn't seem to have much of her own either. "Becky." He forced his mouth away from hers, burying his face against her neck. "We need to—"

"No." She squirmed enough to get her feet back on the ground, and then Becky started kissing him again, pulling him along with her to the bed. "Next round, fine."

It took Seth a moment to realize she thought he wanted to pause to get the condoms; in all honesty, he had completely forgotten about them—forgotten about anything that wasn't Becky or the clothes separating them. "_Becky_." It came out as a growl and before he realized it, he was pinning her down to the bed. As soon as his mind cleared, he started to pull back, but the look in her eyes held him fast. The ache that had haunted her was gone now; there was no hurt, not even from the pressure on her wrists, just desire and lust bound together by that thread of relief. "Safe word," he panted, shutting his eyes when she raised her hips and wound her legs around him. "I . . . don't know if I'll be able to stop, so you need a word."

"No." It was just a whisper, but when Becky's puff of breath hit his skin, all the muscles in his back tensed up. "I trust you—"

"Please. Just . . . pick something. Anything." Her arms were slack beneath his hands and his fingers twitched, tightening. Becky only sighed and tried to get her hips even closer. 

"Aviary?" It sounded like it was chosen at random, but Seth didn't care. He chanted it in his head so he wouldn't forget it—_aviary, aviary, aviary_—while he yanked her clothes off, coming perilously close to tearing her shirt. Once she was naked, he moved back just enough to flip her over onto her stomach. "You have to tell me if I'm hurting you," he said, kissing his way up her back. "I mean it."

"I will." Judging from her breathing, Becky was one good touch away from climaxing, and she stretched out for him like an offering, hands gripping the headboard as she lifted her hips.

The only words that Becky said for the next few minutes that Seth could make out were _fuck_ and please, though there might have been a _more_ hidden amongst her moans and pleas. When Seth straightened up, bearing his weight on his knees, he pulled her up with him, one arm locked around her hips and the other hand flat against her breastbone. She tangled one hand in his hair and slid the other over his, coaxing it up to her throat. 

Seth could hear howls in his head now. Fucking like this—not truly rough, but closeenough—so close to the full moon was a mistake, a huge glaring mistake, but it felt so deliriously good. Under her coaxing, he let his fingers curl around her throat, but he did his best not to apply any pressure. "Becky. . . ." It was a plea and a warning both.

"I know the word." Her voice was little more than a whimper now, and it had nothing to do with the hand at her throat. "_Please_."

"Say it." 

Becky shook her head, eclipsing his vision for a moment. "I don't want you to stop."

"Amnesty. Just this once," Seth said through gritted teeth. "Say it."

"Aviary." Becky said it so softly it was almost lost to the creaking of the bed. "Please don't stop."

Seth wasn't sure if he would have been able to stop even if he tried. He let his fingers tighten around her throat just a bit, and her whole body shuddered. If not for his arm around her hips and his hand at her throat, Becky would have crumpled to the bed as she came. He managed to keep them both upright until his orgasm made him bite into her shoulder. Their bodies separated slowly as they both collapsed to the bed, and Seth was panting as much from restraint as from exertion.

Becky had managed to flip onto her back, but she was still and sprawled, thighs clenched tightly. Laughter started bubbling out of her and she raised both hands to her mouth to try containing it, but Seth stretched out beside her and pulled them away. "Don't." Compared to how miserable she had seemed mere moments before, it was a delight to see her happy.

"You're still wearing your shoes." Her ragged breathing punctuated her words oddly, and Seth glanced over at her neck to make sure he hadn't bruised her.

"Don't care." Except he did. He wanted to be touching as much of her as possible, so he toed off his shoes and kicked them to the floor. Wriggling out of his shirt and jeans was a little more difficult from a horizontal position, but with Becky's afterglow-slow help, he was finally as naked as she was. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Becky's smile could have been an illustration for the definition of _giddy_. Her hip bore a red mark almost in the shape of Seth's hand, but she just traced a lazy finger over it. "I'm not hurt, no." Her eyes drifted shut again as her hips twitched. "A bit sore, but in a good way." She squirmed against the bed covers and laughed again.

Seth lowered his head to her hip and kissed his handprint. That would drive him wild tomorrow, knowing he had marked her; it would be a struggle not to slide his arm around her waist, trying to match up his hand to its handiwork. "I haven't come like that for. . . ." He didn't bother finishing the sentence. The last time he'd had an orgasm like that was with her.

"Seth?" Becky wasn't giggling anymore, but her dark eyes were still gleaming. She reached over and grabbed his hand, pressing over her other wrist. "Please?"

He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn't. But the thought of her pinned beneath him, watching him the whole time, was too tempting. "Only if you keep your eyes open," he replied, moving over her and running his hands up her arms. Once he reached her forearms, he stopped and wrapped his fingers around her wrists, pressing down. Her breath erupted in a shudder and her eyelids fluttered but didn't close fully. 

"Okay." Becky held his gaze as long as she could, even through gasps that stole her breath. When her head tipped back in ecstasy, Seth let go of one wrist to make her face him again and she bit down on his thumb hard enough to make him growl. "Sorry," she panted. "I just—"

"Bite me again." Now he was the one begging and Seth didn't mind at all. They would have to have some tough conversations tomorrow, and Roman and Dean weren't there to run interference. For the rest of the night, though, Seth was far more interested in all the other things Becky could do with her tongue and teeth.


	6. Chapter 6

When Seth woke, his first thought was that he must have had a hell of a wrestling match the night before, and he wasn't wrong. Becky had topped him more than once, and each time they fucked grew more and more frantic. As he sat up, he gently lifted the blanket and looked at Becky, curled up on her side in front of him. The handprint on her hip was far more noticeable now, and her ass was still an angry red. The bite he hadn't meant to inflict to her shoulder was starting to puff up a bit, and he hoped her ring gear would cover it.

As he tried to examine her legs, Becky stirred, reaching for his hand without even looking. "Seth." His name fit perfectly on her sigh and it made his heart thump. All night long, she hadn't once called him by her boyfriend's name; she knew exactly who she was with.

"I'm just checking for bruises," Seth said quietly, kissing her cheek. "Still sore?"

Becky rolled onto her back and looked up at him with hazy, hungry eyes. "The good type of sore," she answered, reaching for his cock. "You?"

"Same." Seth shut his eyes and sank back into the bed, focusing solely on Becky's hand, making him harder by the second.

"Seth?" By the way Becky was saying his name, he got the sense that she had been trying to get his attention for a while, and she reluctantly pulled her hand away. "Your phone? It's Hunter's theme, so I don't know if it's. . . ."

"Shit." Seth tumbled out of the bed and fumbled in his jeans pocket for his phone. There were a lot of calls he could dismiss or avoid, but not Hunter's. His mentor was now one of the few who knew he was a werewolf, and Hunter made sure to factor that in to the parameters of his matches, never putting Seth in a situation that might trigger his transformation early. "Hunter?" he blurted after finally jabbing the right button on his phone. "Hunter, you still there?"

"Yes, Seth." Hunter's voice was dangerously dry and level, which meant someone was in trouble. Seth knew that hoping it wasn't him was foolish, but he still entertained that hope for a moment. "I'm guessing you're still with Lynch?"

Seth swallowed hard, glancing back at the bed. Becky was sitting up against the headboard, looking rumpled and worried and utterly enticing. "Uh. Hang on." Pressing the phone to his chest, he motioned to the bathroom door. "I can go in there. . . ."

But Becky shook her head as she eased out of bed. It was completely inappropriate for the moment—especially since his boss was waiting on the phone, likely to berate him—but he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride knowing that he was the one who had left her so deliciously sore. "I'll go shower," she said, grabbing her things and making her way over to the bathroom. "Take your time."

Seth stopped her midway and kissed her so deeply she nearly dropped her toiletry bag. "You take your time," he countered, "and maybe I'll be able to join you."

Becky's blush almost matched the redness on her hips, and she stumbled into the bathroom. Moments later, Seth heard the water running, underscored by gentle off-key singing. Shaking his head to clear away the visual of Becky in the shower, Seth steadied himself with a deep breath and raised the phone back to his ear. "Hey, Hunter. Sorry about that. I just—"

"Are you still with Lynch?" If Seth thought he could distract his boss from the question, he couldn't be more wrong. "A _yes_ or _no_ will suffice, Rollins."

How did he know? Seth couldn’t recall running into anyone in the corridors, and they hadn't left the room since they arrived. Dana wouldn't have known that they were sharing a room and even if she did, she didn't seem like the type to rat them out. Maybe Hunter was just that perceptive. "Yes," he said at last. "She can't hear me, though. She's in the shower."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" The words should have been bellowed, or at least yelled, but Hunter kept his voice lethally level. "Your dick, obviously, because you're putting it where it doesn't belong."

"Since when does the brass care if the talent fucks each other?" Seth retorted. He waded through the clothes on the floor until he found his underwear. This wasn't a conversation he wanted to have where Becky could potentially hear it. "If it's a new clause, then I hope you're prepared to be making a lot of calls." He stopped just short of listing names; he wouldn't jeopardize his fellow wrestlers just to make a point.

"As long as you're damn adults about it, we generally don't. You're an exception to the rule, and you know damn well why." Hunter's voice dropped to a low growl that made Seth's wolf side bristle. Even though he hadn't grown up with a proper wolf pack, he recognized the warning tone well enough. "Do you realize how close it is to the full moon? Do you know what—by your own admission—you could have done to her if you lost control?"

Flopping down on the rumpled bed, Seth winced. He knew all too well, and he had worried about it every time teeth met skin, every time fingers grasped just hard enough to hurt. He didn't need some corporate suit reminding him. "Yes, I do," he said simply, grabbing his jeans and tugging them on. "But it's _not_ the full moon. Not yet. I wouldn't have done anything—"

"Get out of there," Hunter demanded. "Now. You needed a pack, and I gave you one, and they obviously aren't doing their damn job. Steph and I rented out the conference room on the bottom floor. Get down here now."

Seth looked towards the bathroom door. Becky wasn't singing anymore, but he could still hear the shower; she probably had the water on hot and was trying to soothe some of her aches away. "I haven't showered," he protested, "and I haven't eaten yet. . . ."

"We have a catered breakfast here. We'll share. And you can shower later. Get down here. I'll tell the clerk at the desk to expect you." Hunter hung up without another word. 

Tossing his phone on the bed, Seth stood and shrugged into his shirt before going into the bathroom. If he was anything less than fully dressed, he probably would have been too tempted to step into the shower with Becky, and he didn't want to bring Hunter's wrath down on her. He knocked on the glass door of the shower and did his best not to stare when Becky opened it, glorious and dripping. Her gaze dimmed immediately when she saw he was fully dressed. "What's wrong?" she asked, reaching for the water tap.

Seth shook his head. "You're fine. Finish your shower. Hunter wants to see me."

"Now?" Any other time, Seth would have been flattered by her open disappointment, but he knew he had to tread lightly. He was established enough that his career could handle a road bump if Hunter decided to punish him; the women's divisions were still shaky enough that Becky didn't have the same assurances.

"Yeah. Because he's an asshole. But I'll call you as soon as I'm done." When Becky's shoulders slumped a bit, he ducked in and gave her a quick but hungry kiss. "I promise. I know we have a lot to talk about."

He only left after Becky nodded, though she didn't look entirely convinced, and he just barely remembered his shoes, phone, and room key before he went out the door. Glancing from side to side, Seth didn't spot anyone he recognized, and he realized he wasn't even sure what time it was. _Time for me to be in that shower,_ he thought as he jabbed the elevator button. No matter what time of day or what context, he would almost always prefer Becky's company to Hunter's.


	7. Chapter 7

Since Seth had somewhere to be, naturally he ran into almost everyone he knew. Dolph got on the elevator on the next floor and asked if he wanted to get coffee. The guys from New Day were on their way to breakfast and invited him to join their table since Dean and Roman weren't there. Even Dana waved at him, thanking him again for the ride. He had to turn down all the invitations and chats, though, because Hunter didn't like to be kept waiting. Going up to the front desk, Seth cleared his throat. "Hi. I'm expected in the conference room," he said.

A different clerk was at the desk, and he wondered if it was the night clerk who had told Hunter about him and Becky. She had asked for the second key last night and given it to him in plain sight of the desk clerk, who probably didn't think it was a secret to be kept if they were exchanging keys out in the open. "Sign here, please." The clerk set a clipboard on the counter and handed Seth an access key. "The key will have to be returned by five o'clock today, sir."

"Sure thing." Seth didn't plan on being there that long. He would let Hunter rant his face off, say whatever he needed to say to placate the bosses, and then hopefully catch up with Becky before she caught a ride with Dana. He was tempted to barge right in the conference room, but he held himself steady and knocked first. _It's not just about you. Becky's tangled up in this now too._

"Come in."

Seth hadn't exactly expected a room full of suits; Hunter, for all his faults, did prefer to try solving problems on the micro level first before escalating things to Vince's desk. He did, however, expect more than just Hunter himself, sitting at the head of the table. Behind him, a large wall-mounted screen flickered. "Hey. Where's Steph?"

Hunter crossed his arms in front of chest, glaring at Seth through the steam rising from his coffee. "Talking with Creative, amongst other things. And you should be grateful for that. Becky's a big part of her plans for the women's evolution, and you know she's fond of her."

"I am too." Seth glanced over at the buffet trays. They were picked over enough that there had obviously been a recent meeting, but there was still plenty on offer. When his stomach started to growl—the impending full moon plus a night of rough sex was draining—he looked over at Hunter, who gave a curt nod.

"I should hope so." Hunter swiveled back and forth in his chair a bit, a habit Seth knew he tried to avoid when he was in meetings with Steph or Vince. You could put Hunter in the fanciest suit in the world, but he was still a wrestler at heart, and he missed being in motion. "Otherwise you're going to get a whole other level trouble from Steph. How close are you two?"

Seth paused in heaping food on a buffet plate, hoping there was still some coffee left in the carafe on the table. "Why? You don't care about our relationships unless they affect business, and we haven't botched anything, so. . . ."

"Seth." Hunter flipped over a clean mug from the tray and poured Seth a coffee, setting it in front of the chair closest to him. "You're both professionals. That's not my issue with all of this. Sit."

"Hunter," Seth began, taking a long swallow of coffee and nearly coughing it all back up. "I've got it covered—"

"So you're fucking, but you haven't gotten her pregnant at least. Good to know." Hunter grabbed his coffee and drank it far more reasonably.

Seth hadn't even had a chance to discuss with Becky what their relationship was going to be; he certainly didn't feel like discussing it with their boss. "Hunter, it won't be a problem—"

Apparently, Hunter didn't plan to let him finish a sentence. "Oh, but it will be. It _is_. And it has nothing to do with Becky. Don't worry; she won't be in trouble." That made Seth relax enough that he felt he could eat, but the food—despite still being hot and delicious—felt heavy in his stomach after each swallow. "All those girls you've had back home. Hairdressers and bartenders and whatever—they're safe. They're _way_ back home and you can wear off your full-moon energy here with us before you go back to them. Have you ever even told any of them what you are?"

Seth shook his head, chewing solemnly. Hunter was like a father figure to most of the wrestlers who had come up through NXT, but everyone knew he and Seth had a special bond; some even considered Seth his heir apparent, his wrestling son. "No," he said simply. Hunter probably would have interrupted an answer that was any longer. 

Hunter leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. "Not even the fiancée? The one you'd been dating for seven years or whatever?" He gave a slow nod. "Rather telling, don't you think?"

"It's not the easiest thing to work into a conversation, Hunter," Seth snapped. He chanced the coffee again, taking a smaller sip this time, and he managed to keep it down. "What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, not only am I on the road most of the year, but I also turn into a werewolf. Don't worry, though; I only have to shift on the full moon'?"

"You thought you could control it with them," Hunter corrected. "You thought you could hide it. But you wouldn't be able to with Becky. She's too smart, and she would figure out that you were hiding something. And you would want to tell her."

Seth felt a chill creeping up his spine that he knew the hot coffee wouldn't banish. "You said this has nothing to do with Becky. . . ."

Hunter gave a small shrug. "Not directly, no. She's not in trouble, I promise you that." Then he reached for the tablet that was beside him on the table, tapping in his password and then a few more commands. Behind him, the wall screen resolved into an image of a wall that seemed strangely familiar, covered in family photos and Samoan art. Seth recognized it from visiting Roman on holidays. "Roman, you there?" Hunter said.

A moment later, Roman sat down in front of his own screen, hair pulled back in a bun. "Hey, Hunter." Then he shot a skewed smile to his Shield brother. "Hey, Seth. Man, one event without us and you get hauled in before the boss. We can't leave you anywhere, can we?"

"Hey." Seth sank a bit in his chair, expecting the screen to split and show Dean chiming in, but it seemed that Roman was the only one in on the call. "Sorry to mess up your day off."

Roman shook his head. "No worries, bro. If I would have known Becky was going to be there, I would have swung by to make sure you took it okay."

Hunter cleared his throat. "The fact that Becky has a boyfriend—who just so happens to be _an MMA fighter_—and you're also dating someone is between you two," he said simply. "You have to deal with the fallout of that your damn selves. Unfortunately, _I_ have to deal with the fallout of the two of you."

"I won't tell her," Seth promised. "I'll . . . say it was a mistake and apologize and—"

"And hook up with her again the next time she's single or you are or you're both just in the mood?" For a moment, Seth wondered why Hunter's voice sounded weird, but then he realized it was Roman chastising him. "Bro, you like Becky. It's not exactly a secret. Just tell her."

Turning to face the screen, Hunter thumped his coffee mug against his thigh. "Do you think she could handle it? Honestly?" The question seemed to be directed toward Roman, and Seth felt like a kid at parent–teacher interviews again, being talked about and over but not _with_. 

Roman nodded slowly. "I think so. I mean, as much as anyone can. It _is_ a shock to hear, not gonna lie. But Becky's a tough chick." He, at least, looked to Seth. "What do you want out of a relationship with Becky?"

Seth rolled his eyes and rubbed at his face. "Last time I checked, she already has a dad and a stepfather. She doesn't need two more dads running interference in her life."

Hunter chuckled. "Hit a nerve, did we, Rollins? That usually means there's more there than just sex." Steepling his fingers, he leaned on the table. "So, what's the answer?"

Seth knew he could have been pedantic and answered the question about hitting a nerve, but he didn't want to be stuck in the conference room for hours, getting grilled by Hunter when he could have been hanging out with Becky instead. "I like her, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

When Hunter looked to Roman for confirmation, Roman nodded. "He's legit. Boy definitely has a big, lingering crush, anyway. He would talk and talk and _talk_ about her, and then if Dean or I suggested, you know, actually _asking her out_, he'd always balk."

_Because I like her!_ Seth wanted to yell. It didn't bother him in the long run if he sabotaged his relationships with the girls he was with back home, but he didn't want to hurt Becky, and he wasn't sure he could avoid that if he couldn’t tell her he was a werewolf. "She doesn't date wrestlers. You've heard her say that yourself," he pointed out. An NXT hopeful had asked her out years ago and Becky had politely declined; Seth had used that as ammunition for his inaction for years.

"She's also said she didn't do casual sex," Roman pointed out, "so maybe you're an exception more than one rule, bro. I don't mean to sound cold, but I know you like her and it's obvious that she likes you."

Seth could feel his face start to heat up, so he concentrated on eating some of his breakfast; at least it gave him something to stab that he wouldn't get in trouble for. "It's easy for you guys to judge," he said sourly, "because you're not the ones who turn into a wolf once a month." He tried to think of a clear argument to present, but his mind kept going back to Roman's words: _It's obvious that she likes you_. Was it? Dean and Roman were the only ones who had ever brought it up with him, but then again, Becky's friends would hardly drop hints about her feelings. The men's and women's locker rooms were often like two completely different worlds, existing simultaneously but rarely in sync. "Besides, it's one thing to . . . like someone and another to take on a burden like that."

To Seth's surprise, Hunter leaned over and patted his arm. "It's not a burden, Seth. It's part of you. You wouldn't be the wrestler you are—the _person_ you are—if you weren't also a werewolf. Remember what Dusty used to tell all of you in NXT? Be yourself, but bigger. When you're at your best, that's the wolf showing through: power, confidence, primal energy. And that’s not a burden. Whoever you end up with—whether it's Becky or someone else entirely—will need to be able to accept that."

"Again," Seth muttered, "easier said than done."

"Full moon's in a couple days, bro," Roman pointed out. "Perfect timing."

Seth nearly choked on his food. "_Perfect timing_?" He waited until he caught his breath to continue. "We haven't even gone on a date!" He was hardly going to go into details about what they had done, but going from frantic sex to divulging secrets seemed like a huge leap.

Hunter laughed. "You two have known each other since NXT. You've been friends for how long now? Four years? Five? With the exception of the obvious, there can't be much you don't know about each other. That should make it easier."

Seth hadn't thought about it that way, but after spending most of his life keeping his second nature a secret, it felt weird to be discussing sharing it so openly. "That’s a lot to spring on her," he said weakly. "She's just coming back from an injury; she's not even on the live shows yet. I should let her get her bearings first, get settled back in. . . ."

Roman shot him an affectionate but stern look. "The same way you give her space after she's broken up with someone and then never make a move? Bro, you have no problem seizing the moment in the ring. You need that mentality here and now, or you're going to lose her. She's got that MMA guy; from what the other girls have told me, they seem tight. If you don't let her know now, she's going to go back to him, and then this whole cycle is just going to start again."

"But I don't know _how_." Sharing his secret with Roman and Dean and even Hunter had felt so much easier, somehow, and it wasn't that he was willing to lose them: his Shield brothers were like family to him, and Hunter was an incredible mentor. But if there was any chance of building a relationship with Becky, Seth didn't want to ruin it before it had a chance to start, and beginning a relationship with 'I'm a werewolf' probably hadn't worked for anyone in the entire history of the planet.

Hunter grabbed his phone and opened the calendar app. "Full moon night is another house show. Seth, you were already left off the schedule. Roman was up in the air, but I can take him off as well so you have some moral support." He tapped a bunch of buttons in quick succession. "I'll take Lynch off as well; since she's just easing her way back in, that's easy enough to explain."

"I got your back, bro. I already told JoJo that Uncle Seth was having a rough time and that I might have to leave on short notice. She's good with it and sends her love." Roman winked at him before turning his attention to Hunter. "Should I scout out a place?"

Consulting the upcoming schedule, Hunter was silent for a moment. "We won't be far from Davenport, actually, so if you've got a favourite spot close to home," he suggested, "that could make it easier."

Seth forced himself to concentrate on his food for a moment. Not only was he supposed to convince Becky to go on a last-minute date—while she was still presumably in a relationship with another guy—but he also had to plan that date for a forested area near his home. It sounded like a murder waiting to happen, but Hunter and Roman both clearly thought it was a viable idea. "And how do I explain why Roman is there? It won't exactly look like a date."

Laughing, Roman puffed out his chest. "I'll be the big brother chaperone." Then he turned serious. "Nah, man. Just say we were going to try some new restaurant or something and you thought she would like it." After a long pause, he added, "Okay, so we'll have to come up with a good reason for the forest detour. And it's not exactly like you can use the 'walking the dog' excuse, because, well. . . ."

"Don’t say it." There had been a few times when either Roman or Dean had to pretend to be walking Seth in his wolf form because some random hiker passed by. Normally Seth could tell if anyone was nearby, but some trails were harder to read than others. "We've got a few days to come up with something that doesn't sound ridiculous." That also meant there were a few daysfor him to lose his nerve completely, but he didn't bother to add that; judging from the expressions on Hunter and Roman's faces, they were already planning for that contingency.

Hunter kept them both a while longer, finalizing some details as well as discussing how to proceed if Becky didn't take the news well. Seth didn't even want to consider that, though he knew it was a very real—and very likely—possibility. When Seth was finally free to leave, the first thing he did was pull his phone out of his pocket to call Becky. With each ring that went unanswered, he figured she had already left, she was busy, she had already written him off and was apologizing to her boyfriend and begging for his forgiveness.

Just before the fourth ring, when he was going to hang up and spare himself the bittersweet pang of hearing her voicemail prompt, Becky answered. "Hi! Hi." She sounded breathless and rushed, as if she had run to get the phone. "Sorry. I was just talking with Xavier about the next game tournament." Her pause was adorably awkward. "So . . . what happened?"

Seth decided to use some notes of truth. "Not much. Hunter gave me a talking to. Told me you're too important to the women's evolution and that I had to be careful not to get you pregnant because they can't afford to have you out of action for a whole year."

"_What?_" Becky's laugh was incredulous and infectious, and Seth felt his spirits lighten a bit. "He didn't!"

"Well, I worded it a bit nicer than he did," Seth added. "I also got the dad speech about 'my intentions', so . . . um. Want to go on a date on Saturday? Roman's going to swing by my place to try out a new restaurant and you're totally welcome to join. And after that, we could . . . do whatever. Hang out. Talk."

Becky paused for so long that he thought she was going to bring up her boyfriend or his girlfriend, but she didn't. "Sure," she said at last. "But if you'd rather just hang out with Roman, I understand. You guys don't get a lot of time together now. . . ."

"He'll be happy to be rid of me." Seth flinched a bit at the lie, but he vowed to explain everything to her on the night of the full moon, even if it meant losing any chance he had with her. "So, where are you? I already had breakfast, but if you have time for that talk. . . ."


	8. Chapter 8

The days between his talk with Hunter and the full moon went by far too fast for Seth's liking. He had split from his girlfriend in a rather unceremonious way, but she had been kind enough to put a bland break-up notice on Twitter; if things went horribly with Becky, Jenna still deserved better than to be his second choice. Becky, from the sounds of things, had also broken up with her boyfriend, though he had actually been the one to bring it up; apparently his family issues and her travel schedule weren't compatible.

It felt like only hours had passed when Roman and Becky arrived at his place. He'd had to scramble to find a new restaurant they would all like that was also close to the forest where he liked to transform when he was at home. They all enjoyed the meal, though, and if Becky felt awkward having Roman in tow, she didn't show it, and Roman somehow struck the perfect balance between being a friendly, calming presence and not being in the way.

"You liked stargazing when we were down in NXT, didn't you?" Roman asked after they had paid their bill. "There's a spot on the way back to Seth's that has great views. It's in the middle of the forest, so there's no light pollution. I always like stopping there when I'm in town." He glanced over to Seth. "Think we could stop for a couple minutes before you cut me loose?"

Seth nodded, hoping his nervousness wasn't as obvious as it felt. "Sure, if it's cool with Becky." They had only taken one car, leaving Roman's rental at Seth's house; Becky had made sure Seth knew she booked a hotel, but he also noted that it was close to his place. "Becks?"

Becky nodded. "Sure. I haven't really spent a lot of time in Iowa, so it'll be nice to see more of it."

The forest wasn't really on their way, but Seth knew which roads to take to make it look like it was. Given the time of day and the season, it was highly unlikely that they would run into anyone else, but he still parked in a quiet bend. As they got out, he spared a thought for how it might all look from Becky's point of view: going off into a dark forest with two guys who could easily overpower her, and no one else was in sight. _Yeah, not the best set-up, Rollins._ When he glanced over at her, though, she didn't seem concerned. She was already craning her neck, taking in the darkening sky. 

"The sky is amazing here, isn't it?" Roman pointed out a few of his favourite constellations while Seth got his full-moon bag out of the trunk. It wasn't anything fancy: just an old duffel bag containing a blanket, a bottle of water, deodorant, a towel, and spare clothes; wet wipes were a more recent addition, and one of Dean's surprisingly insightful suggestions.

Becky noticed the bag, though. "What's that for?" She pointed down to her slip-on shoes. "I didn't know we were going hiking."

Seth caught Roman's gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath. "We're not. There's something . . . I need to show you."

"Out here?" Becky glanced around. "Is it one of those geocaching things or something?"

"No, it's. . . ." How could he possibly explain? It had never been properly explained to him; he had just been given a couple of family histories and that was it. He almost wished he had brought them and just given them to Becky to read instead. 

"It's probably easier if you just see it," Roman said at last. Then he turned to Becky. "Seth is trusting you with this. Big time. Whatever happens between you two is up to you, but I hope you'll honour the trust he's showing you today by keeping his secret no matter what."

If Becky hadn't already been made wary by the isolated location, Roman and Seth's caginess did the trick. She started looking all around them, down at the ground and up into the trees. "Is this for Swerved or something? Where are the cameras?"

Seth dropped his bag by his favourite tree and came over to Becky, holding her face with both hands. Her surprise at that—whether it was that he touched her at all, or that he was doing it so openly in front of Roman—flared when he kissed her. The full moon was pulling at him; it felt like his muscles were being drawn and quartered. "It's not a prank. It's me . . . something about me that you deserve to know before we go any further. Roman already knows; so do Dean and Hunter and Steph. But that's it. Until now. Until you."

Then Seth stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head, smiling a bit as he heard Becky's pulse pick up. Whatever else happened, at least he knew she was still drawn to him. As he continued to undress, she looked away. "Um. Not exactly secret," she said, gesturing vaguely in his direction.

Roman's laugh boomed like thunder through the forest. "I tried to warn him about naked selfies. I swear I did." Behind him and Becky, the full moon looked like a giant, unblinking eye.

Becky glanced over at Roman. Seth noted that he was standing close enough to Becky to restrain her if need be—or catch her if she fainted—but he was still giving her space. "No offence, Ro," she began, "but skyclad in the forest isn't really my thing. . . ."

"Mine either. Just watch. Not _this_," Roman added, pointing to Seth taking off his socks. "Just . . . trust me."

"What exactly am I supposed to be watching?" Becky asked, warm breath turning to clouds in the cool night air. "If I knew, maybe I could—

"Trust me," Seth interjected, voice already more like a growl. He dropped into a low crouch and rolled his neck from side to side. If he started his transformation close to the ground, he was less likely to get injured. He still wasn't sure the all-or-nothing approach was the best way to share this particular secret, but it was too late now. "You'll know."

Normally when he transformed, Seth's mind was completely focused on turning into a wolf. Now he was trying to listen for Becky's reactions: her pulse, her breathing, her words. It made the shift more difficult, like pushing wet sand through a sieve. "Seth. . . ?" Becky's alarm was like a sharp knife, cutting through the chaos in his head. "Roman, what's . . . what's happening to his hands?"

"It's okay." Roman's voice was low and comforting. "He's okay, Becks. Just . . . watch and try to keep an open mind. I know it's hard. I freaked out the first time I saw it too."

Then the transformation hit full force, and for a few precious minutes, Seth was in an in-between world of darkness and agony, and he wasn't sure who he would see on the other side.


	9. Chapter 9

Back when Seth had shifted for the first time, he had wondered if it would just be like waking up. Though it got easier over the years, it was never as peaceful as that. His mother had insisted on accompanying him for the first few years, but as soon as he turned sixteen, he told her he would be okay on his own; she could stay in the car and catch up on her reading while he shifted and did his full-moon run. He made the request mostly to spare her, because he knew how much she hated seeing him in pain, but there was an element of selfishness to it too: with the transformation came pain, pain that had to be expressed either in a human's scream or a wolf's eerie howl, and he had always held that in. If she was back in the car, she wouldn't be able to hear how much agony he was in.

He had warned Roman and Dean about the howls and screams before they ever accompanied him on a full-moon night; Hunter had only accompanied him a handful of times when Roman and Dean weren't able to, and Steph only knew the basics about his condition, enough to book him safely and watch out for danger signs. Now he wished he had told Becky what to expect beforehand. Her energy was strong and orange, a flame without a match; beside her, with an arm around her, Roman was a steady cool blue, as unstoppable as the ocean. "That's . . . that's a _wolf_, Roman." Her voice quavered, but she didn't; she didn't faint or scream. As far as Seth could tell, still adjusting to his new set of senses, she was simply standing and staring, breathing shallow as she tried to figure out what was going on.

"It's Seth," Roman said simply. "He's a werewolf. He only has to shift on full-moon nights." His energy shook a bit and Seth realized that Roman was approaching him slowly. His Shield brothers knew he wasn't a pet, no matter how much he might look like a large Malamute, but Seth didn't mind the occasional pat on the head. Keeping a steady pace, Roman held his hands out at his sides, crouching slowly a few feet away from the wolf. "Hey, bro. You good? Becky's here, but I don't know if you're ready to meet her yet." 

Roman's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater and it took Seth's wolf brain a few extra moments to translate it. When Seth shuffled to the side a bit, peeking past Roman's broad shoulders to look for Becky. She hadn't run away yet. She hadn't passed out or collapsed to the forest floor. She was just watching, the darkness of confusion casting shadows throughout her otherwise bright energy signature. "How?" she asked slowly. At first Seth was disappointed that she wouldn't meet his eyes, but then he remembered that she loved dogs; she would know that direct eye contact could be construed as a challenge. "People can't just. . . ."

Roman sat in the fallen leaves and motioned for Seth to join him. Every nerve in Seth burned, aching to run, but he knew Roman was trying to help so he settled beside him. "He'll explain more to you after he shifts back," Roman promised, "but from what I understand, he inherited it through his father's side." Being a father himself, he didn't hold a very high opinion of Seth's biological father's unhelpful family. "He learned a bit about his condition through some family journals, but he's figured out most things on his own." Then he motioned Becky over. "Come here. I'll make sure he won't hurt you."

Becky's slow steps made the leaves crackle like fire, and she stopped even further away than Roman initially had. "It . . . he's a _wolf_, Roman. How would you even try to stop him?" Thin tendrils of fear spiked through her energy like neon blue lightning, but she stayed. _She stayed_. Seth had to keep focusing on that. "What do I . . . do?" she asked awkwardly.

"Put out a hand, palm down," Roman instructed. "Let him sniff it. Like meeting a strange dog, more or less." Laughing, he added, "I should probably mention that Dean and I got the 'no petting' speech. I imagine you might get excluded from that, though."

"Did . . . did he warn you before he showed you?" Becky rocked back on her heels a bit when the Seth rose to his paws, but she was otherwise still and steady. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw Roman nod as he rose and went to stand closer to Becky. "He did. He was worried you would think it was just a cheap excuse for his behaviour, so he figured if he showed you first, you'd have to believe him." Roman hadn't been entirely on board with the plan and Seth could tell he still would have approached the problem a different way. "Steady. You're doing good, Becks."

Becky's fingers twitched as soon as Seth's nose touched the back of her hand, and a nervous laugh bubbled out of her. "It's . . . weird. I'm so used to being like Bayley and screaming 'PUPPY!' and petting any dog that comes near me." Hearing that, Seth nudged closer, rubbing his head against her hand until her fingers spread out in his fur. When he looked up at her, her deep gasp worried him at first, but then he saw the same conflicted tenderness in her eyes that was usually there whenever she looked at him. "God, his eyes. Those . . . those are his eyes."

"Pretty much," Roman agreed, coming closer again. Leaning down, he gave Seth a friendly pat on the side. "You should go run, bro, before it gets too dark." 

Seth was reluctant to leave them, but his muscles were already starting to protest about his lack of movement, so he backed up and ran deep into the forest, where the trees were so close together that Becky or Roman would have had to crawl to follow him. As he ran and darted and weaved, he caught snippets of their conversation on the wind, and for a wild moment, he wished they were running with him. A pack in actuality, not just in his heart.

As a wolf, Seth had no real way to gauge time. He could try to chart the moon above the trees or judge the darkness of the sky, but usually he trusted Dean or Roman to call him back. This time the voice was different, making his ears perk up. "COME BACK!" The words twisted and twirled with her accent, but he didn't care.

Becky hadn't left. Becky had been the one to summon him back, though he imagined that was probably Roman's idea. Eager to rejoin them, Seth raced back, nearly skidding down a shallow slope and busting his head open on a large rock. He quickly recovered, though, and in a few minutes he was back where he had left Roman and Becky. In his absence, they had spread his blanket out across the leaves, set his clothes out in small piles, and grouped his towel, water bottle, and wet wipes together for easy access. He chuffed a thank you as he approached, careful to keep his pace slow so Becky wouldn't feel threatened.

"Good run?" Roman asked as Seth came near and butted his head into Roman's hand. Seth gave a wolfy nod before moving on to Becky, who extended her hand again. This time it was looser, more relaxed, and she didn't need any prompting to stroke her thumb across his head. "The change back can be . . . uncomfortable to watch," Roman warned her. "Seth will understand if you've seen enough for today."

Becky shook her head. "No. I'll watch. I mean, if he wants me to, that is." Then she glanced down at him, fingers trailing over his pointy ears as she stepped back. "Is it okay?"

Seth nodded again, trotting over to the recovery station they had set up for him, but staying a few feet away from the blanket; if he shifted back on top of it, it would be little more than tatters when he was done. He heard Roman ask Becky if she was sure, and she said she was, and the last complete thing Seth remembered seeing was Roman and Becky—one of his best friends and the girl he hoped would be so much more than a road fling—watching over him. Just like a pack.

Turning back to human always seemed to hurt more. Maybe it was that he had less energy to spare, that the rest of his night would be spent recuperating. He howled as his bones stretched and his skin twisted, his fur retreating to wherever it went between full moons; the family histories were skimpy on the science of the whole process, understandably. When he was fully human again, naked and sticky and coughing as he adjusted to his different lungs, Seth crawled onto the blanket and sprawled out. The first few minutes after a shift, while his brain was getting accustomed to its new body, were always the most vulnerable, so when he heard a twig snap, he immediately looked up. It was only Becky and Roman approaching, though, slowly so as not to startle him. "Hey, little bro." Roman crouched down beside him and patted his back. "Do you want us to wait by the car so you have some space?"

Seth shook his head as he rolled over onto his side and grabbed for his water bottle. Becky quickly crouched down, uncapped it, and handed it to him. "Thanks." He held her gaze long enough to make her blush. "So," he croaked, "that's me."

Becky sat down a safe distance away from the blanket, twisting her fingers together. "I . . . I still don't fully understand. And I know it makes me sound like an ass, but Roman's right: I probably wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't seen it myself."

"It's okay." Seth wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, but she was too far away; intimate physical contact right after a shift was risky anyway. "I didn't believe it when I was told. My mom didn't either."

Becky's laugh was tinged with sheepishness. "I don't know what I thought you were going to do. Maybe some overly elaborate rejection or something, I don't know. But . . . thank you. For trusting me. I won't tell anyone, no matter what happens with us."

"I know." Seth's gaze didn't budge from hers until Roman cleared his throat. "Um. Right. I usually need a couple minutes to get myself together again and then we can go."

"Sure. Take your time." Becky stood and started to pace, almost as if she needed a run herself. "I have questions, obviously—who wouldn't?—but they can wait until tomorrow. . . ."

Seth glanced up at Roman. His judgement was always a bit skewed just after a shift, which was another reason he liked to have someone he trusted nearby. "We can talk tonight, if you want." His internal filter was another victim of the transformation, something he forgot until he said, "Don't worry. No sex on the menu. It's not safe for me on a full-moon night."

Roman held up his hands in surrender and took a few steps back when Becky's eyes went wide with surprise. "Don’t look at me. He said it."

"No pressure." Seth lurched into a sitting position, pouring the rest of his water over his head. He would definitely need a shower when he got home. "I know you said you booked a hotel."

Narrowing her eyes, Becky turned to face Roman. "You didn't give a shit about the restaurant, did you? And the whole thing about the stars was just an excuse to stop here, right?"

"Guilty as charged. I'm sorry about the lies, Becks. We just wanted you to be comfortable. If you came into this expecting something horrible. . . ." Roman grimaced a bit as he took the car keys out of his pocket. "Well, Seth would have tapped into that energy and things could have gone badly, and then you would be judging off a less-than-ideal shift, so. . . ."

Becky nodded slowly. "I get it. I mean, I don't imagine there's an easy way to tell someone you're part-time wolf." Glancing at Roman again, she arched an eyebrow. "Though I would like to hear the story of how Seth told you and Dean someday, if that's allowed."

"Someday," Roman agreed. "But Dean should be there too. He tells it better than I do."

While Becky and Roman were talking, Seth pulled his clothes on and repacked his full-moon kit, taking note of what needed to be washed and what needed to be replaced. "Let's get out of here," he said as he stood. 

The route they took back to Seth's house was even more convoluted than the one that had gotten them to the forest. First they stopped at Becky's hotel so she could pick up her things and cancel her booking. Then they detoured to a grocery store to get some food to tide Seth over during his post-shift munchies. By the time they got to his house, it was well past midnight. Roman kept offering to stay elsewhere, but Seth wasn't having it. "There's plenty of space here," he insisted as he finished putting away the groceries, "and it's late."

"And there's no sex on the menu," Becky echoed, grinning impishly, "so you'll just have to shag him another day."

Roman feigned disappointment as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. "Dang. I had it in my phone schedule and everything too." He pointed to the staircase. "I might as well get some sleep then. Can I take my usual room?"

Seth nodded. Roman and Dean stayed at his place often enough that they had rooms they preferred, and he left them untouched unless he was hosting a massive family gathering. "Sure. Becks, I'll get you set up in a room. Come on." 

Becky grabbed her bag and followed him up the staircase. Roman was already out of sight. "So you don't have a . . . pack?" she asked hesitantly. "It's not my business, I know, but. . . ."

Stopping in front of the door of a bedroom he figured Becky would like, Seth turned to face her. "It's okay. I . . . would like it if you want to make it your business, if that makes sense. I've only got a small circle of people who know, and no matter what, there's a place for you in it."

"Thanks." Becky pointed at the door. "Well, I guess this is me?"

"Yeah, but. . . ." Seth lingered by the door. "I want to take a quick shower, but then I usually soak in the tub for a bit to ease my muscles. Would you sit with me?" He quickly held up a hand. "Just sit. Outside the tub. You can ask whatever questions you need to."

"Okay. I'll just. . . ." She gestured vaguely to her door. "And you can talk with Roman, wherever he went. . . ."

Seth gave an awkward chuckle. "Roman went off to give us some space to talk. He's probably calling his daughter. It's cool. He knows his way around the place if he needs anything." Then he pointed to his bedroom right next door. "I'll leave the door unlocked. Come in whenever you're ready," he said. Becky's lips twisted in that coy little smile again and she mumbled a reply before taking her bag into her room and shutting the door behind her.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Seth went into his room and dropped his full-moon bag by the door; he could deal with that tomorrow. The nice thing about only needing to transform on full moons, he supposed, was the amount of time in between; his mother had joked that it was almost like going through menstruation in that regard, with his pre-shift symptoms and his need to keep an eye on the calendar. Undressing, he dropped all his clothes by the full-moon bag and grabbed his bathrobe on his way into his en suite. The shower was more of a formality, a way to scrub off all the sweat and dirt that seemed to accompany every shift. It took a while to detangle his hair, but once he felt clean enough, he shut the shower off and padded over to the large soaker tub, filling it with mostly hot water and a few drops of bath oil. It had been an oddly random Christmas gift from Paige years ago, one he meant to regift or donate, but then he had tried it on a whim and found it helped make the separation between wolf and man that much more definitive on full-moon nights.

Seth was almost dozing off when he heard a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey," Becky called out softly. "If it's a bad time or you changed your mind. . . ."

"No, no, come in." He straightened up a bit in the tub, wondering for a moment if he should have added some bubbles. _Nothing she hasn't already seen,_ he reminded himself as she entered. The sight of her in her pyjamas banished the last of his awkwardness. The first time they'd slept together, her pyjamas had been improvised; the second time, she hadn't worn anything at all. Now she was wearing an old Pearl Jam tank top that looked like it had shrunk in the laundry a few times—not that he was complaining—and a pair of panties. "Is your room okay? I've got other ones, but I thought you'd like the morning light in there." He didn't mention that it would put him at ease to have her close as well.

"It's great. Thank you." Becky lowered herself to the floor and sat cross-legged by the tub, studiously avoiding looking down. "I don't even know what to ask," she admitted softly. "My brain still can't quite fathom what I saw."

"I understand. It's a lot to take in." Seth leaned back against the tub, wishing he had put his hair up before he got in the tub. "Would you get me one of those elastics?" he asked, pointing to the vanity with the double sink.

"Sure." Becky rose easily and he did his best not to stare as she shuffled over to the vanity and grabbed some elastics from his scattering of hair paraphernalia. "I can do it," she offered, coming up behind him.

Seth shut his eyes as soon as her fingers slid into his hair. "I thought you always said you were useless when it came to hair."

"When it comes to my own, yeah. It's easier to work on someone else's because I can see it. I mean, I can't give you a French braid or anything," Becky added, gathering his damp hair up into a bun and securing it in place, "but the man bun isn't exactly a high art form." When she was done, she gave the bun a gentle pat before sitting back down by the tub—a little closer this time, Seth noticed. Minute by minute, the tension in her shoulders was melting away.

"Good to know." Seth held her gaze for a long moment. "So. Questions."

"Yeah. Let's see." Becky rested an arm on the tub and put her chin on it. "Well, I guess there's the most obvious one: How did you figure it out? Roman mentioned your biological father's family, but I didn't think you were close with them."

"I'm not." It was still a sore spot for him, but Seth couldn't blame Becky for being curious. "I was a really rambunctious kid. Not just the usual 'boys with be boys' rowdiness either. I would get so incredibly . . . angry. That's not even the right word, but I've never found one that fits. I felt wrong, like I didn't fit in my body, if that makes sense. Like wearing too-tight shoes every day."

Becky nodded slowly, eyes trained on his face. He wasn't sure how much of that was rapt attention and how much was her trying to avoid looking any lower. "So your mom worried."

"Yeah. The doctors were useless. She put me in sports and that helped a bit, but she finally gave in and tracked down one of my dad's relatives, and he said I had werewolf genes. He gave her a couple books for me to read: his personal journal about being a werewolf, and a sort of compendium of symptoms and things, but that was it. That's all the formal training I got."

Becky winced so sharply at that that her hand slid off the rim of the tub and into the water. "Sorry. I didn't mean—" She stopped short when Seth pulled her hand back under the water and threaded his fingers with hers.

"It's okay. Little stuff like this," Seth explained, holding up their joined hands, "won't mess with my control. It's the more . . . intimate stuff that can be hazardous. With most of my local girlfriends, it wasn't a problem because I was on the road so often. If the full moon happened to fall when I was home, I would come up with a quick excuse. Roman was coming in to visit. Dean and Renee invited me out to their place. Anything, really."

"The first time you . . . changed? Shifted?" Becky raised an eyebrow. "What do you call it?"

"Either's fine with me. Or _transformed_. I don't know what the preferred term is." Seth's gaze dropped to their hands. "I've never met another werewolf. Not that I know of, anyway. I like to think I'd recognize one somehow, but I don't know."

Becky squeezed his hand. "The first time you shifted," she asked slowly, "were you prepared? How did you know it was going to be _that_ full moon and not some other one?"

Seth laughed a bit, sinking into the water down to his shoulders. "It felt like pressure. You know how your ears pop with big altitude changes? Like that, but over my whole body. I had been really cranky for the last few full moons, but that one . . . it just felt different somehow. And yes, it was scary as hell." He shook his head in wonderment as memories flooded back. "I must have puked for about half an hour straight when I changed back. Mom had taken me camping to some remote place just in case, and I must have made one hell of a mess of the campsite."

"And I thought I caused my ma grief." Becky joined in his laughter. "You were probably enough of a handful as a teenager without turning into a wolf once a month."

Seth widened his eyes to feign innocence. "I don't know what you mean. I was a perfect angel. Good grades, volunteered in the community. . . ."

"Sure, sure." Becky rested her cheek against the rim of the tub and focused on his face. "So if you can't . . . get intimate on full-moon nights, how do you wrestle? I mean, I know it's not the same, but it's still . . . you know, physical exertion and all that."

"Honestly, the wrestling helps more than it hurts. It helps me wear off energy and it makes me be more aware of how I'm feeling. Hunter and Steph are really good about watching my booking around the full moons," Seth added. The more he talked, the softer Becky's gaze became, and it was getting increasingly difficult not to invite her into the tub. He knew it wasn't wise, both for her safety and his, but he had always been curious about what post-shift sex would feel like. The 'no sex on a full-moon night' rule wasn't one he had ever tried to break before; it was one thing to do something that endangered himself, but he didn't want to hurt anyone else.

"Good thing you always wanted to be a wrestler then," Becky quipped, "and not a golfer."

Becky asked a few more questions, ranging from the expected ones like _Does silver hurt you?_ to more random ones, like _Does your metabolism change closer to the full moon? Do you have to change what you eat?_ The fact that she was there at all, sitting calmly and holding his hand, asking questions and genuinely listening to the answers, gave him hope. He would never be able to share his secret with everyone in the WWE or even all of his friends, but if his humble little pack could only expand by one, then he was glad she was it.


	10. Chapter 10

Seth should have known better. Once you got Becky talking, it was hard to make her stop. Her questions might have been tentative at first, but then she got going and started asking things Seth hadn't even considered until he had been shifting for a few years already. Eventually her mind turned to the sex-based questions, but she stopped just shy of asking any. The water in the tub was almost cold by the time her curiosity—or at least her eyelids—started to dip, so Seth waited until her eyes were closed to step quietly out of the tub and put on his robe. Becky was already half-asleep leaning against the tub and probably would have stayed there until she slipped and crashed to the floor, but he scooped her up gently and carried her into the bedroom.

"Not tired," Becky protested, though she fell just short of letting her eyes drift shut. "I have more questions to ask. . . ."

"And I'll still be here tomorrow," Seth promised. He set her down on his bed and pulled up the blankets, and though she kept insisting she wasn't tired the entire time, it didn't even take a minute for her to fall asleep. As quietly as he could, Seth grabbed a pair of shorts and went back to the bathroom to dry off, loosening his hair from the bun so it wouldn't be an utter disaster in the morning. Taking his phone as an afterthought, he crept out of the room and shut the door behind him. The bed was big enough to sleep two people without having them touch, but he found it hard not to touch Becky at the best of times, let alone when the dregs of wolf energy were still rattling around his bones. There was a chaise longue in his bedroom as well, but he didn't trust himself not to fall off it in the middle of the night and startle her.

He walked past Dean's preferred room and the other spare bedrooms, any one of which would have suited him just fine for a night, and after detouring to the kitchen for some snacks, he went down to his gaming room. There were always spare blankets in there; if he was hosting a gaming tournament, Xavier liked to sleep in the gaming room for good luck. Unlike Becky, though, Seth found he couldn't sleep right away. He wasn't exactly wound up, but he had been mentally preparing for screams and denials and accusations, and now he had to do something with all the defensive energy he had built up. Playing some video games seemed like the perfect antidote. He kept the volume low so he wouldn't wake Roman or Becky, and lost himself in his favourite game until his vision started to blur a bit. Then he spread one blanket out over the extra-large couch and shut off the console and the lights before stretching out himself.

"What the fuck?" Roman's startled voice woke Seth out of a deep, dreamless sleep, and he struggled to sit up. Roman was standing just inside the doorway, spilled water dripping from his hand and the glass in it. "Seth, bro, what the hell? Why are you sleeping in here? Did Becky get so mad she kicked you out of the entire _floor_?"

"Nah, man." Seth tossed his mussed hair out his face and kicked the blanket out of his way so he could stand. "Becks took it pretty well, I think. I hope. She asked a lot of questions, anyway, but she was tired, so I just tucked her in my bed and came down here to play video games until I got tired." His yawn almost cracked his jaw and he stretched his arms far above his head. "I didn't want there to be any misconceptions, you know?"

Roman nodded, sidestepping the small puddle of water soaking into the carpet to grab some popcorn from the bowl Seth left on the coffee table. "What? It's practically a vegetable."

Seth shook his head. "You're starting to sound like Dean, man."

Roman laughed and leaned in to give Seth a quick hug. "If you don't mind me kicking around your kitchen, I'll make something for breakfast and get coffee going. You can wake up Becky." Then he raised an eyebrow. "Not like that. You should make sure she's seriously fine with the whole werewolf thing before you guys get too involved again."

"Okay, _Dad_." As soon as Seth said it, he grabbed his phone, half surprised Hunter hadn't called already to ask how Becky had taken the reveal. There were no missed calls, but Hunter had sent a quick text: _Let me know how things went when you have a minute._ Nice and vague, just in case Seth had chickened out at the last minute or Becky had happened to see it before Seth did.

After Roman left to go to the kitchen, Seth spread one of the blankets on the floor over the wet spot and stepped on it so some of the liquid was sopped up. Then he dumped both blankets into a pile near the door so he remembered to put them in the laundry. When he reached his bedroom, he knocked gently on the door just in case Becky was getting dressed, but all he heard was a muffled groan, so he stepped inside.

_Damn._ He guessed Becky was about half a foot shorter than him, but she had somehow managed to insinuate herself across the whole bed. One leg was peeking out of the covers up to mid-thigh, and Seth couldn't help but smile when he realized Becky was using his pillow, arms wrapped around it and face buried in it against the encroaching sun. Seeing Becky in his house, in his _bed_, felt incredibly right: she added depth, colour, a sense of vitality that had been missing for a long time, even when he had previous girlfriends living with him.

Becky looked at home there, like she belonged. It was a simple thing to wish for, maybe even a silly one, but with so much upheaval in his personal life, one of the things Seth had always wanted was someone who made him feel like he was at home no matter where he was.

Seth hated to disturb her, but he could smell the coffee brewing already and knew Roman would have breakfast ready in a matter of minutes, so he crouched beside the bed and ruffled Becky's mussed hair. "Hey, Becks. Wake up. Roman's making breakfast. Trust me, his French toast is ridiculously good."

Without looking, Becky reached up, grabbed the hand that had mussed her hair, and cuddled into it as if it were a stuffed animal. "Too comfy," she murmured.

Pressing a quick kiss to her temple, Seth shook her again before standing. "Come on, Lynch. Get up or else Roman will think I'm taking advantage of you."

It took Becky an inordinate amount of effort to roll onto her back and gaze around the room, getting her bearings as she woke up fully. "This is a really great bed," she said as she yawned.

_Maybe I can give you a tour next time._ Seth let himself think it, but not say it out loud. It would be a wonder if Becky accepted his secret and promised not to divulge it; it would be a goddamn miracle if it didn't scare her away from him forever. Judging from his relatives' accounts, it was very difficult for a werewolf to find a lover they could trust implicitly, and most ended up arranging marriages with werewolves from other packs if they wanted to have children. "I'll leave a robe for you at the end of the bed," he said instead, shaking her knee. "But I warn you: If you're not down soon, Roman will come looking for you, and he'll probably just carry you down the stairs."

"Okay, okay." Becky struggled to sit up, using both hands to get her hair out of her face. Seth had to force himself not to watch. There was nothing particularly sexy or even graceful about Becky easing out of his bed; she was a clumsy mess, but he loved it. "I'll be right there."

"Want me to wait so you don't fall down the stairs?" Seth asked, only partly joking.

Becky glared at him with one eye; she was rubbing sleep crust out of the other. "I can walk down stairs just fine."

"Okay, then. I'll see you down there." Seth allowed himself one last look while Becky crawled out of his bed. _Don't get too used to seeing that, Rollins. It might not ever happen again._

Catching him staring, Becky blushed a bit, reaching for the robe. "Sorry for hogging your bed," she said softly. Her accent was always thicker when she had just woken up or if she was really tired. "You should have just dumped me in my room."

Seth shook his head. "It's fine. I couldn't sleep anyway." He gave her a lopsided smile and reached for the door. 

"Wait." Becky belted the robe loosely and grabbed his arm. "Have to make sure you don't fall down the stairs, you know."

"Right." Seth motioned her out into the hallway and followed her down the stairs, watching her footing to make sure she didn't slip. The scents of hot coffee and warm food made his stomach growl, which made Becky turn so quickly she almost missed the bottom step. He caught her arm, though, and swung her down from the stairs to the floor. "Just a regular human stomach growl, I promise. I was born with the gene, so I only have to shift on the full moon."

Becky frowned at that, as if she were trying to remember something. "So are there other types of werewolves who have to change more often?"

"Yeah. There are bitten wolves and cursed ones—" Seth began.

"And hungry ones!" Roman called out. "Or else I'm eating all this food my damn self!"

Seth smiled at Becky and gave her hand a quick squeeze. "Don't ask me how you managed to find even _more_ questions to ask after last night, but we can talk later, okay?"

"Sure," Becky nodded, sneaking into the kitchen in front of him. "Holy breakfast, Superman. Whenever you decide to retire, Roman, can I hire you to be my personal chef?" She hoisted herself up onto one of the island stools and grabbed a plate, almost overwhelmed by the choices Roman had set out. Seth was used to Roman's breakfast skills, but even he was impressed. There was barely an inch of the marble-topped island that wasn't holding something to eat, and the freshly brewed coffee smelled heavenly.

Roman just laughed. "Only if you want breakfast all day, every day. That and barbecue. Anything else is beyond me, man." He settled on the stool to her left and poured her a coffee, then looked over her shoulder at Seth. "You planning on joining us, bro?"

"Yeah." Seth was struck by another pang, another moment. It was different than the warmth he felt seeing Becky wake up in his bed, but similar in tone, the cozy camaraderie of sharing his space, his sanctuary, with two of his closest friends. He eventually sat beside Becky, letting their knees touch, and assembled a plate from the bounty of offerings. "Did you both sleep okay?"

"Always do. It's like a home away from home." Roman reached around Becky to clap Seth's shoulder. "I called JoJo this morning and she says hi." Then he poked Becky. "She also wants to know why I don't bring any of the 'girl wrestlers' to visit, so consider that an official invitation."

Becky gestured to the breakfast bonanza with her fork as she devoured another piece of French toast. "If breakfast will be like this," she replied, "try getting rid of me."

Seth laughed as he sipped at his coffee. "And what about me?"

Roman dismissed him with a wave. "Pfft. You're yesterday's news, man. She's beat your ass on Mario Kart too often. She needs fresh blood—er, competition, I mean."

"Sure, right." Seth dropped more bacon onto his plate. "You know if you ever want to bring her up here, she's more than welcome. Even if I'm not around. _Mi casa, su casa_ and all that."

"Thanks, bro." The rest of their breakfast was filled with friendly chatter, the three of them demolishing the impressive array Roman had made. When Becky rose to clear things away, Roman shook his head. "Nah, don't worry about it, Becks. I know where everything goes. Go shower and get dressed. We're good."

"Thanks." Becky glanced quickly at Seth. "If you're sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead. There should be enough towels and whatever in your en suite, but if you need anything, just ask." Seth watched her head up the stairs before turning to Roman. "Thanks for all your help, Roman. I don't know if I would have gone through with it if you hadn't been here. I would have been afraid of hurting her or worried that she was going to freak out or—"

"Seth." Roman gripped his shoulder tightly. "You don't have to worry about those possibilities anymore, because they didn't happen. That doesn't mean it's going to be smooth sailing, but she didn't run away screaming, so that has to be a good start."

Seth considered that for a moment. So far, none of the people he had shared his secret with had shunned or betrayed him. That didn't mean everyone would accept it so easily, but he was glad Becky seemed to be handling the news well, or at least as well as could be expected. "Yeah, I hope so." He pushed his plate away and ran his hands through his hair, resting his elbows on the counter. "I like her, Roman. I really do. And it's not just the sex, I swear."

"I know." Roman slid over to Becky's vacated stool and wrapped an arm around Seth's shoulders. "You wouldn't contemplate telling a girl about the wolf thing just because you slept with her for a couple nights. You two have been friends for a long time. I'm not quite sure when your crush kicked in," he added, "but yeah, it's not some sudden thing."

Seth still didn't like thinking his feelings were so obvious, especially since it had taken him so long to figure out that it qualified as a crush, but he couldn’t dwell on that. "It's not. But I don't know how to make this work. She's said before that she's wary of dating fellow wrestlers, and it's not exactly like I've got the best track record with dating co-workers."

"You can only do your best and keep being honest." Roman finished his coffee and started gathering up the empty plates. "Did Hunter call you yet?"

"Shit. Thanks for reminding me. He texted. I should get back to him. Um . . . just put stuff in the dishwasher," Seth added, getting to his feet and running to his gaming room. He really didn't feel like talking on the phone for an hour, so he sent Hunter a quick text instead. _So far, so good. No freak-outs or anything. Fingers crossed._

Hunter's reply came in a moment later, short and to the point: _Good. Don't fuck this up._

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Seth murmured, shoving his phone in his shorts pocket and going back to the kitchen to help Roman.


	11. Chapter 11

Roman offered more than once to leave early and let Seth and Becky have time together, but both of them insisted he was welcome. Seth gave them a tour of some of his favourite places and even drove them out to the small town where he had grown up, showing them his old house and school. After Roman had to leave to catch his flight, Seth suddenly felt like he was on a first date. "I'm not sure what your schedule is like," he asked Becky hesitantly, "or when you have to go, but maybe we could go out for dinner first?"

"I'm honestly still pretty stuffed from Roman's breakfast," Becky confessed, "so could I substitute that for a coffee and save the dinner for another day?"

A raincheque for a dinner? Not quite as good as the real thing, but definitely more favourable than a rejection. "Of course. My favourite place is a bit of a drive, but—"

"That's okay." When Becky got in the passenger seat, she had to adjust it since Roman had it pushed so far back, and she was laughing even as she was struggling with the mechanism. "All you goddamn tall people, I tell you."

"Maybe you should start wearing lifts in your boots," Seth joked. He worried about them lapsing into a strained silence, but Becky chattered on the same as she had when Roman was there. Something was making her shoulders a bit tight, but he couldn't figure out just what. "So how long are you in town for? I forgot to ask how long you had the hotel booked."

"My flight's scheduled for tomorrow afternoon." She sounded a bit disappointed by that. "Hunter and Steph want me to do another assessment. I thought my match was okay, but. . . ." She shrugged, toying with the strap of her purse. "Hunter insists they're just being diligent. They want to put me in the title hunt, so they want to make sure I'm okay before they start everything in motion and then have me need more time off and then their build-up just fizzles out."

"Makes sense. I know it sucks, but at least they're looking out for you. And you deserve another title shot. It's long overdue." Seth smiled over at her. Becky had one of the most organic, loyal fanbases of any wrestler in the WWE, male or female. Other wrestlers' numbers could drop dramatically depending on whether they were a face or a heel, but hers were steadily increasing regardless of her opponent.

"Thanks." Then she perked up. "Oh, is that it?" Becky pointed at a small Italian café.

"No," Seth replied, "but it looks delicious. Want to try there instead?"

Becky nodded. "If you don't mind. You obviously know the city better than I do."

Seth found a parking spot easily and they went into the quaint Italian café. It was clearly run by several generations of the same family, and the décor was authentically vintage. Despite not being hungry, Becky was still eying the cannoli, so Seth ordered two along with their coffees. A few locals were scattered amongst the tables, reading newspapers or chatting, and no one seemed to recognize them at all. It was wonderfully refreshing. "Good eyes, Becks," he said as they chose a table near the back out of habit.

"Yeah, well, Cesaro taught me the important pastry words in Italian and I spotted some in the window, so. . . ." Becky dipped her finger in the cannoli cream and licked it off. "Yum. Cesaro would approve."

"He wouldn't eat it, because his body is a temple and all that," Seth added with a laugh, "but he would approve." Their conversation from the car morphed into talking about music and then, when Seth's phone pinged with a message from Roman, saying he was boarding his plane, about their favourite places to visit. They left only when the café started to fill up, and Seth made sure to leave a healthy tip in the countertop jar.

Something clearly changed in Becky's mind between the café and the car, because once they started driving again, her posture was stiff. "You said there were other types of werewolves. Cursed ones and bitten ones. . . ."

"Yeah. It sounds like the cursed ones are pretty rare, though I don't know for sure. Bitten ones are more common—almost more so than born ones. Modern medicine means more people are surviving werewolf attacks," Seth explained, "but then they're . . . infected, I guess."

"And when you say _bitten_," Becky continued, keeping her gaze on the side mirror, "that's when the werewolf is in wolf form, right? You couldn't infect someone by biting them when you're—" She started to say _human_, but ended up gesturing vaguely at him. "Like this."

Becky was blushing now and Seth knew there had to be more to her sudden fit of awkwardness than a seemingly simple question. "Yeah, I'd have to be in wolf form to transmit it."

"Okay, good." Becky blushed more at her own response and quickly dropped her gaze to her lap.

_Oh._ Seth thought he knew where her mind was going and as soon as they stopped at a red light, he reached over, brought one of her hands to his mouth, and bit down on her thumb just hard enough to make her gasp, squirming in her seat. "If it were that easy to transmit," he replied, voice low, "there would be a lot more werewolves." When the light turned green, he reluctantly lowered her hand to her thigh and gripped the wheel again.

"I guess so." Becky ran a finger over the bite mark Seth had left around her thumb, her breathing uneven. "You . . . you also said it wasn't safe for you to have sex on a full-moon night."

Seth gripped the steering wheel so hard it creaked, and he had to force all his muscles to relax. "According to what I've read, anyway; I've never tried it." He wasn't going to push or even flirt if he could help it; as much as he wanted Becky, this was a decision he needed to come from her, if only for his own peace of mind. He needed to know that she had witnessed his wolf and still wanted him anyway.

Becky fidgeted a bit more, and the urge to reach over and sneak his hand between her thighs was screaming through Seth's every nerve. "Is that just . . . literally the full-moon night or is it the day before as well?" He caught her gaze flicker in the rear-view mirror as she added, "Or after?"

Fortunately traffic was light, so Seth was able to pull over onto a side street quickly, park, and reach over to kiss Becky. She reflexively tried to get closer, cursing when her seatbelt held her in place. "Come home with me," Seth pleaded. "Please. I know you have to fly out tomorrow—"

"Tomorrow _afternoon_," Becky clarified, kissing him again, full and fiery.

When she reached for her seatbelt buckle, though, Seth stopped her. "I want you in my bed. When I woke you up this morning. . . ." He let out a long, shaky breath as he cupped the back of Becky's head. "God, I knew Roman was downstairs and I still wanted to fuck you anyway."

Becky shut her eyes for a moment, biting down on her lip. "Good thing one of us has some self-restraint. Looks like that's going to be your job."

"Not today." Seth gave her another kiss that took her breath away and then checked that she was still buckled in. Turning back into traffic, he edged his speed up as high as he dared; this was definitely not the time to get pulled over for speeding. "You . . . you know you don't have to—"

"I want to." And then Becky leaned over the console and pressed her mouth to his ear, listing off each and every thing she wanted to do in his bed, and it seemed to take an eternity to get back to his house and up the stairs. Becky tried teasing him step by step, standing one stair above him to make their heights almost equal, but Seth quickly grabbed her and carried her up the rest of the way, bumping into a few walls in his haste. As they passed her room, Becky made a grab for the handle. "I haven't even tried my bed yet."

"Later," Seth promised, pressing on towards his bedroom. Her room, the gaming room, the soaking tub: there were plenty of places he could take her. For now, though, he wanted her in his bed, thinking of how perfect she had looked there before. Like she not only belonged there, but she had been meant to be there all along. He tumbled them both onto the bed and pinned her down. "You're sure?"

Becky's hands were already at his waistband. "Roman can be your guard and make you breakfasts," she smiled, reaching one hand inside his pants. "I can help with your extra energy."

Seth buried his face between her neck and shoulder for a moment, breathing deeply. It wasn't just about the sex, though he knew it would be intense. It was about trust and connection and finally feeling like his worlds weren't doomed to be at odds. "Welcome to my pack."


End file.
